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AMERICAN 


HISTORICAL TALES 


FOIL 


YOUTH. 

rr\iytc/i s 

.1 


NEW-YORK: 

D. APPLETON & CO., 200 BROADWAY. 

PHILADELPHIA: 

GEORGE S. APPLETON, 164 CHESNUT-ST. 


M.DCCC.L. 






PREFACE TO PARENTS. 


In presenting to his young Countrymen, the 
first of a series of books with the foregoing title, 
the Editor begs leave to state, briefly and sim¬ 
ply, the plan of the series, and the reason which 
has prompted him to the undertaking. Indeed, 
he can hardly expect the patronage and support 
of those who sustain the interesting and respon¬ 
sible relationship of parents, without such a 
statement. 

The design is to present to his young fellow- 
citizens books of a higher value than those usu¬ 
ally afforded them. Instead of tales and stories, 
written for the young, the series will embrace 
^ volumes of Biography, History, Travels, &c. 
x As it is designed especially for American youth, 
the subjects will not unfrequently be American. 
^ The intelligent man or child, however, will be 
\ glad to gather profitable and interesting lessons 
1 * 



6 


PREFACE TO PARENTS. 


wherever he may find them, and subjects afford¬ 
ing such lessons, will not be excluded from the 
series, from whatever quarter they may be de¬ 
rived. 

It has grown into the familiarity of an adage, 
that “ early impressions are the strongest,” and 
this is the principal reason which has prompted 
the enterprise. It is known to parents, and per¬ 
haps to children themselves, that the young in this 
day enjoy peculiar advantages. The time was, 
when books written for children, were far beyond 
the comprehension of a child; now they are writ¬ 
ten plainly and simply, so that an intelligent boy 
or girl may readily appreciate and understand 
them. This alone has begotten, perhaps, in chil¬ 
dren of-the present day, a greater fondness for read¬ 
ing. Of the style of these books the Editor does 
not complain, but he thinks that the subjects are 
not unfrequently bad. Tales and romances are 
written for the young, giving them frequently dis¬ 
torted pictures of human life, and calling forth 
in them an early taste for trifling and unprofit¬ 
able reading. He would not here be under¬ 
stood as finding fault with those beautiful stories, 
sometimes inculcating the most beautiful lessons 
of morality and religion; but, on the contrary, 
would express his thanks to the men of genius 


PREFACE TO PARENTS. 


7 


who have prepared them. Books of such value, 
however, in this class are exceedingly rare. 

In presenting to the young volumes of Biogra¬ 
phy, upon well-selected subjects, he hopes he 
is giving to his young Countrymen, the best 
practical examples for calling them up to a lofty 
energy. History is itself “ stranger than fiction,” 
and opens a wide and unlimited field of ever vary¬ 
ing incident; and through books of Travels they 
learn to sit at home like the sweet poet Cowper, 
(as most of them, perhaps, will be forced to do,) 
and see various pictures of the world. The 
men, manners, and things of real life thus be¬ 
come familiar to them. It is to be hoped, 
and humbly expected, that a taste for such read¬ 
ing, early acquired, will serve to make them, in 
after life, more profitable and interesting mem¬ 
bers of society. 

His young Countrymen having been pleased 
to receive his former trifles, written for their 
benefit, with approbation and kindness, he feels 
that he can make them no more grateful return 
than by an honest endeavor to do them a higher 
service. He will have his reward, if they are 
pleased and instructed. 

In conclusion, the Editor feels that he will 
have failed in the statement most essential for 


8 


PREFACE TO PARENTS. 


securing confidence in a teacher for the young, 
if he did not declare himself to be an humble 
member of the Church Militant, living upon the 
hope of being one day a member of the Church 
Triumphant. He considers that all education, 
to be good, must be based upon Christian prin¬ 
ciple: the heart must be cultivated as well as 
the understanding; and whatever is placed in 
this series, will be found to be on the side of 
Christianity. 


ADVENTURES OF HENRY HUDSON. 


CHAPTER L 

The Pleasure and Profit of reading Biograpny — 
The Birth-place of Henry Hudson — Circum¬ 
stances which brought him forward—His Pre¬ 
paration for embarking to find a Passage to 
the East Indies by the North Pole , in 1607— 
Sails on the voyage , and after many trials , 
returns at the end of four months and a half 
having been farther North than any other navi¬ 
gator , and having opened the Whale Fishery to 
his Countrymen. 

It has been my lot to spend some years of my 
life in the large and flourishing city of New York. 
I have walked its crowded streets, looked upon 
its beautiful churches, (these are the first build¬ 
ings that I notice in every city,) its fine public 
buildings, and its elegant private residences. I 
have in my possession an old picture shewing 
the appearance of Manhattan Island, upon which 
2 



14 


HENRY HUDSON. 


the city stands, in the year 1635—twenty-six 
years after its discovery by Henry Hudson. It 
is not a great while since, that I was showing 
this picture to one of my little friends, and call¬ 
ing his attention to the wonderful change that 
had passed over the island since the day when 
Henry Hudson first rested his eyes upon it. It 
was then a poor island, inhabited by savages, if 
inhabited at all, with Indian canoes floating in 
the waters around it. Now it is the largest city 
in our land, and ships from all quarters of the 
world rest upon its waters, almost encircling it 
with a forest of masts. I shall never forget the 
look of surprise and honest inquiry, in the simple- 
hearted little boy, as he turned to me with the 
question, “ And who, sir, was Henry Hudson 1” 
He was young, and his ignorance was pardona¬ 
ble ; the more so because he confessed it, and 
at once asked for information. I have thought 
that many older than himself were perhaps, as 
ignorant as he was, and therefore have prepared 
for my young countrymen the story of the life 
and adventures of Henry Hudson. 

Before I begin I must make two remarks to 
my young friends. First, I know few things 
more profitable than the study of the lives of our 
fellow-men. If they were men eminent for good 


HENRY HUDSON. 


15 


qualities, and men devoting themselves to the 
improvement of mankind, we feel an ambition 
kindled in our own bosoms to imitate such men 
—“ to go and do likewise’’—they are glorious 
examples for us to follow. If, on the contrary, 
they have been remarkably bad men, by marking 
their follies and their sins, we may perhaps, learn 
to despise their wickedness and shun their ex¬ 
amples. And if the individuals have been men 
who have lived among ourselves, or trod the 
same ground upon which we ourselves are walk¬ 
ing, the example becomes tenfold more forcible. 

Then, too, I know few things more pleasant. 
Some readers, in their desire for pleasure, are 
eager to seize each new novel or tale of fiction 
as it falls from the press—while the stories of 
real life are crowded with scenes of the wildest 
romance and most daring adventure. So beau¬ 
tiful indeed are these stories, that many writers 
of fiction seize upon them, and make them the 
basis of their own tales of romance. They are 
like painters who are not original in their pic¬ 
tures : they are only coloring up and varnishing 
old pictures, and not unfrequently they spoil the 
paintings, leaving them only miserable daubs for 
the people to look at. For my own part, I like 
the stories of real life in themselves, without any 


16 


HENRY HUDSON. 


of their aid. They are in themselves full of ad¬ 
venture ; they are certainly more natural , and 
above all, they are true. I hope, therefore, that 
we shall find the study of biography both profita¬ 
ble and pleasant, and most of all perhaps, the 
study of American Biography. 

It is said that in old times many cities had a 
contest, each claiming to be the birth-place of 
the great poet Homer. Some ignorant persons 
have supposed, that there was a dispute between 
two nations, as to the birth-place of Henry Hud¬ 
son. The Dutch speak of him and write of him 
as Hendrick Hutson, and this, I suppose, is the 
foundation of their mistake. The truth is, that 
all Dutch historians whose opinions are valuable, 
and who speak of him at any time, know that 
he was no countryman of theirs, and call him 
Hendrick Hutson, the bold English navigator. 

It would be pleasant to know something of 
Henry Hudson when he was a boy, that w T e 
might trace his career, step by step, till we find 
him standing a great man before us. It is said 
that, 

“ The Child is father of the Man,” 

and if so, we might hope to find him in his 
school-boy days, a bold and fearless little fellow: 


HENRY HUDSON. 


17 


but of his parentage, connexions, or education, 
I am sorry to say, very little is known. He was 
born in England, and had his home in the city 
of London. His most cherished and intimate 
companion was Captain John Smith, the founder 
of the colony of Virginia. They were much 
alike in temper and disposition, and it is not 
wonderful that there was a strong friendship be¬ 
tween them. Henry Hudson was also a married 
man, but we do not know who the woman was 
who shared his joys and his sorrows. He had 
one son, for the boy was with his father in all 
his voyages, of which we know anything, and 
they at last perished together. 

The fact that so little is known of the early 
days of Hudson, has always induced me to sup¬ 
pose that he was what the world calls a self- 
made man. The times in which he lived were 
filled with the daring adventures of hardy navi¬ 
gators, the ocean was the pathway to distinc¬ 
tion, and his young heart was probably fired 
with these stories, and his genius possibly, thus 
throwm in that direction. I have fancied him 
born to poverty—an obscure and humble boy, 
struggling against a hard fortune, battling diffi¬ 
culty after difficulty with undying perseverance, 
until at last he forces his way before the world, 
2 * 


18 


HENRY HUDSON. 


the makei of his own fortunes. I love these 
self-elevated men. It seems as though they were 
nature’s noblemen: the men whom God design¬ 
ed should be great and useful to their species, in 
spite of all the difficulties, which the world pre¬ 
sented before them. And I never think of one 
of them without remembering the multitudes of 
my young countrymen who are humbly born, 
and lowly bred. Such men are glorious exam¬ 
ples for them, telling them not to be frightened 
by difficulties, or turned aside by disappointments, 
but to press right onward in the way of useful¬ 
ness, and honorable fame. 

Before Hudson comes fully before us, it is well 
that you should understand the peculiar circum¬ 
stances which brought him forward. After the 
nations of Europe discovered that there were 
rich treasures in that region of country, now 
known as the East Indies, the commerce of that 
region was brought to them partly over land, 
and then floated through the Mediterranean Sea. 
This was a slow and laborious route for trade; 
and in a little time, those nations farthest remov¬ 
ed from the advantages of that trade, (such as 
Spain, Portugal, and England,) became restless, 
and desirous of finding a new and shorter pas¬ 
sage to the East Indies. After many hard and 


HENRY HUDSON. 


19 


unsuccessful efforts, at length, in 1499, Vasco de 
Gama, a celebrated Portuguese navigator, doub¬ 
led the Cape of Good Hope, and passing on, ap¬ 
peared upon the coast of Hindostan. Thus a 
new track was found, but still it was looked 
upon as belonging particularly to the Portu¬ 
guese, and moreover, it was still a long and 
dangerous passage. The nations of Europe were 
not yet satisfied. Still thirsting for a shorter 
highway to the wealth of the East, they began 
to think that they might find it by sailing through 
the Arctic Ocean, and passing north-westwardly 
around ,he coasts of North America, or north¬ 
eastwardly around the shores of Asia, or possibly 
by moving in a course directly north. You 
would be wearied, if I should tell you of the many 
long and perilous voyages undertaken, to find 
this northern passage. Time and time again, 
voyager after voyager departed, and all returned 
unsuccessful. 

The best of all books tells us that “ the love 
of money is the root of all evil.” And yet this 
very desire after the riches of the East, was over¬ 
ruled by a wise Providence for good purposes. 
No northern passage was found, and yet these 
northern voyages have aided the cause of sci¬ 
ence, have discovered new fields of commerce to 


20 


HENRI? HUDSON. 


Arctic fishermen, opened to the adventurous na¬ 
tions of the old world new and fertile regions, 
and trained up for them, a noble, bold, and har¬ 
dy race of men. I say a hardy race of men: 
for nowhere is there a more fearful meeting 
with the elements of heaven (those elements 
which man can never control) than in the Arctic 
Seas. Wind and storm, and famine and disease, 
are for ever around the voyager, and to this day 
there is no harder undertaking than the voyag¬ 
ing and wintering among the icebergs of the 
Polar Seas. He who undertakes it even now 
must have courage, patience, and fortitude under 
all manner of sufferings. Henry Hudson was a 
voyager amid these fearful things. 

Notwithstanding all these failures about a 
northern passage, a number of rich men, living 
in the city of London, still hoped that the pas¬ 
sage might be found: and in the year 1607, 
joined themselves together as a London Compa¬ 
ny, and furnished the funds necessary for making 
three voyages. They were determined once 
more to search for the passage by the three old 
routes, north, north-east, and north-west. Know¬ 
ing that everything depended upon the skill of 
their commander, they chose for their man Hen¬ 
ry Hudson 


HENRY HUDSON. 


21 


Hudson readily accepted the command, and 
on the 19th of April, he, with his crew, consist¬ 
ing of eleven besides himself,* among whom w r as 
his son John Hudson, went to the church of 
Saint Ethelburge in Bishopsgate-street, and there 
received the sacrament of the Lord’s supper. 
This was one part of their preparation for going 
to sea. It was the pious and beautiful custom 
of those days, for sailors to do this. I am sorry 
that it has growrn out of fashion: it was but say¬ 
ing to the whole congregation, that they were 
about embarking upon the sea to meet unknown 
perils, and that their trust was in God, “ who 
alone spreadeth out the heavens and ruleth the 
raging of the sea.” 

The object of this voyage w^is to find a pas¬ 
sage directly across the Pole, or, as Hudson 
himself says in his journal, it was “ for to dis¬ 
cover a passage by the North Pole to Japan and 
China,”—and you will bear in mind, that this 
was the first effort ever made, to seek a passage 
directly across the Pole. 

On the 1st day of May, 1607, they weighed 

* The names of the crew, as given in the Journal of this voy¬ 
age of 1607, were as follows: “Henry Hudson, master—Wil¬ 
liam Colines, mate—James Young, John Colman, John Cooke, 
James Beubery, James Skrutton, John Pleyce, Thomas Bax¬ 
ter, Richard Day, James Knight, and John Hudson.” 


HENRY HUDSON. 


22 

anchor at Gravesend, and taking a northerly 
course, in twenty-six days reached the Shetland 
Isles. Here Hudson found that the needle had 
no variation: but on the 30th of May, (four 
days after,) he “ found the needle to incline 
seventy-nine degrees under the horizon.” On 
the 4th of June he found a “ variation of five 
degrees westerly.” From the Shetland Isles, 
Hudson stood northwest, his object being, as it 
would seem, to strike the coast of Greenland. 
Indeed, he supposed Greenland to be an island, 
and thought that by keeping a northeast course, 
he might possibly pass around it. In a week’s 
time, though he had not found land, he made a 
profitable discovery, for he tells us that on the 
11th of June, he saw six or seven whales near 
his ship. Thus you will mark one benefit of 
this voyage at once; for afterward, the whale 
fishery in these Northern seas became a business 
of immense profit, to his countrymen. Two days 
after this, at 2 o’clock in the morning, land was 
seen ahead, and some ice; there being a thick 
fog at the time, he steered away northerly, and 
the wind coming on to blow hard, he stood away 
south and by east six or eight leagues. The 
weather was now so cold, that the sails and 
shrouds of his ship were covered with ice. In a 


HENRY HUDSON. 


23 


little time it cleared up, and Hudson was able to 
take a fair view of the land. He could now see 
it stretching in a northeasterly direction nine 
leagues before him. “ The land,” he says, “ was 
very high, mostly covered with snow. At the 
top it looked reddish, and underneath a blackish 
clay, with much ice lying about it.” I suppose 
this reddish appearance was what is sometimes 
called red snow. In those countries where the 
snow is almost perpetual, there is a small plant 
of a reddish hue which grows upon the snow, 
and rapidly spreads itself all over it.* In those 
northern regions,the snow-capped hills often have 
this covering of red, and it is said, it is sometimes 
seen even upon the Alps and the Appenines. He 
noticed too, great quantities of fowl upon the 
coast, and was near enough to see a whale close 
by the shore. There was a man of the crew 
named James Young, and I presume he must 
have been the first to have observed the land, as 
Hudson called the head-land before them 
“ Young’s Cape” Near this cape he saw “a 
high mountain like a round castle,” and to this 
he gave the name of the “ Mount of God’s mer¬ 
cy” These were on the coast of Greenland. 


This plant is known as the Protococcus Nivalis. 


24 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Harassed by thick fogs, storms of ram and 
snow, driven sometimes before a gale of wind, 
and at other times becalmed, Hudson still held 
on in a northeasterly course. He was unwilling 
to be driven from it, being anxious to know 
whether the land that he had seen was an island 
or a part of Greenland : and hoping, above all 
other things, that he might find Greenland to be 
an island, and pass easily around it. The fog, 
however, continued so thick and heavy, day after 
day, that he could not see the land, until at last, 
discouraged in this direction, he resolved to steer 
more easterly, hoping to fall in with an island 
which he calls Newland, the same island that is 
marked upon our maps and charts as Spitzber- 
gen. 

Having sailed some sixteen leagues on this new 
course, land was again seen on the left hand, (or 
larboard side of the ship, as sailors say,) stretch¬ 
ing southwest and northeast. Hudson thought 
that he was within four leagues of the land. 
He observed birds flying over it, but different 
from those he had seen before. These had 
“ black backs and white bellies, in form much 
like a duck.” Many floating pieces of ice, too, 
were in the neighborhood of his ship : so that he 
had to move carefully. To increase his anxiety, 


HENRY HUDSON. 


25 


the fog again came on, and he began to fear that 
his ship would be fastened amid these blocks of 
ice. Still keeping a lookout as well as he could 
through the darkness, for the point where the 
land ended eastwardly, he steered northeast 
five or six leagues, and then turned to the south. 
Again he was unwilling to turn aside from his 
purpose. As soon therefore, as the weather 
cleared up, he stood again northeast, and in a 
little time land was again seen, as he supposed, 
twelve leagues distant from him. He then took 
an observation, and found this land to be in 72 
degrees 38 minutes north latitude. This land, 
too, was very different from that which he had 
seen at Young’s Cape: it was a high land, not 
at all covered with snow, and the southern part 
rolled away into very high mountains, but no 
snow rested upon these. To his surprise, he 
found the weather here not so severe, but on the 
contrary, temperate and pleasant. He did 
not, however, explore this land farther. The 
many fogs and calms, with contrary winds, and 
much ice near the shore, held us,” (as he says,) 
“ from farther discovery of it.” As he knew no 
name, however, as yet given to the land, (for 
his charts did not point it out,) he called it the 
land of Hole 7 with Hope. 

3 


26 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Hudson’s employers had desired him to find 
the passage directly across the Pole, and he seems 
to have feared that his time might be thought 
wasted, in some degree, upon the coast of 
Greenland. In his journal, therefore, he gives 
the reason for this delay. “ The chief cause” 
(says he) “ that moved us thereunto, was our de¬ 
sire to see that part of Greenland which (for aught 
that we knew) was to any Christian unknown: 
and we thought it might as well have been open 
sea as land, and by that means our passage 
should have been the larger to the Pole : and the 
hope of having a westerly wind, which would be 
to us a landerly wind if we found land. And, 
considering we found land contrary to that which 
our cards make mention of, we accounted our la¬ 
bor so much the more worth. And for aught 
that we could see, it is like to be a good land, 
and worth the seeing.” 

He now held his course northeastward toward 
Newland or Spitzbergen. In two or three days, 
one of the crew again saw high land to the lar¬ 
board, which fell away to the west the farther 
they moved north. This was the last view they 
had of Greenland. 

Still pressing on, Hudson had continued strug¬ 
gles against hard winds and heavy fogs, until at 


HENRY HUDSON. 


27 


Iasi, he reached a latitude so high, that the 
sun was above the horizon the whole twenty- 
foui hours. Here, then, the fogs could not annoy 
him so much. On the night of the 25th, ha 
again saw birds like those he had seen upon the 
coast of Greenland, and supposed that land must 
be near, but it was too dark for him to discover 
it. On the morning of the 26th, he again saw 
birds of many kinds flying about his ship, and 
strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of land, but 
the heavy fog prevented. The next morning 
the fog rolled away from the sea, and he saw 
before him the coast of Spitzbergen. He could 
not see it very plainly, however, or approach it 
very closely, for u the land was covered with 
fog : the ice lying very thick all along the shore 
for fifteen or sixteen leagues.” He coasted along 
the shore through the day, catching occasional 
glimpses of the land, and w T as able to make an 
observation, by w r hich he found himself to be in 
the 78th degree of latitude. He was not certain, 
but supposed that he was now near a point on 
the western coast of Spitzbergen known by the 
name of Vogel Hooke Or Vogelhoelc. He was 
again surprised to find this region mild and 
temperate compared with that about Young’s 
Cape. 


28 


HENRY HUDSON. 


His effort was now to make his passage by 
the north side of the island, and he kept his course, 
as well as he could, almost due north. I say as 
well as he could, for he met here, perhaps, great¬ 
er difficulties than in any former part of the voy¬ 
age. He was surrounded by ice, fearing almost 
every moment that his ship would be dashed to 
pieces against the floating masses—head winds 
prevailed against him, forcing him almost daily 
to change his course, and storms were his con¬ 
stant companions for more than a fortnight. Still, 
in spite of all these trials, he worked his course 
northward, noticing, in his way, large num¬ 
bers of morses, seals, and sometimes bears, until 
he began to fear that the ice would not allow 
him to make the passage on this side of the isl¬ 
and. It would seem that some of his men found 
time to attack the bears, for several of them, he 
tells us, were made sick by eating bears’ flesh. 
During this fortnight, he observed one thing 
which was curious: the sea was at times blue, 
green, and black, and the green sea he found to 
be freest from ice, while the blue sea was almost 
always crowded with it. 

On the morning of the 14th, it was calm with 
fog. Yet they were able to see a bay open 
toward the west, enclosed by high and ragged 


HENRY HUHSON. 


29 


{and. The northerly point of this land, which 
was very high and bleak, was first seen by Wil¬ 
liam Collins, the boatswain, and they instantly 
gave it the name of Collins Cape. On the south 
side of the bay, they discovered three or four 
small islands or rocks. Great numbers of whales 
were sporting in the bay, and while one of the 
men was amusing himself with a hook and line 
overboard to try for fish, one of these whales 
passed under the keel of the ship, and “ made 
her held.” They were greatly alarmed, and very 
grateful when the danger was over. “ By God’s 
mercy,” (says Hudson,) “ w^e had no harm but 
the loss of the hook and three parts of the line.” 
They found the weather hot, though the swamps 
and valleys near the shore were filled with snow. 
John Colman, the mate, and Collins, the boat¬ 
swain, w ? ent ashore here with two others, and 
found a pair of morse’s teeth in the jaw, quanti¬ 
ties of whale’s bones, and some dozen or more 
deer’s horns. They saw too, the tracks of ani¬ 
mals on the shore. The weather was so hot 
that they were glad to find two or three streams 
of fresh water rolling into the bay, where they 
quenched their thirst. The men returned, and 
the wind being in their favor, they again steered 
north-east. 


3 < 


30 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Or, the 16th the weather was clear, the wind 
north; and Hudson found himself surrounded by 
ice in every direction. He could see the land 
and ice extending north-east far into the 82d 
degree of latitude, and seemingly much farther, 
and he was now convinced that he could not 
make his w r ay through the ice on the north side 
of the island. The wind, too, was fair just at 
the moment, and he determined now to sail 
round the southern point of the island, and press 
his course north-east, hoping to make the passage 
on that side. He continued his course south for 
more than a week, coasting along the shores of 
Spitzbergen, when, on the 25th, he saw the land 
bearing north. But then he was discouraged 
from turning the point, and moving toward the 
north-east—for by this time he had observed the 
general prevalence of the winds on the coast, 
and found that it would be impossible. This 
plan, therefore, he was forced to abandon, and 
now he resolved once more “ to prove his for¬ 
tunes” by the west. His aim was nothing less 
than to pass round the north of Greenland, (sup¬ 
posing it to be an island,) and return by Davis’ 
Straits to England. With a heart full of hope, 
he now shaped his course westward. 

Two days after this, while nearly becalmed, 


HENRY HUDSON. 


31 


they were suddenly startled by a tremendous 
noise, made by the ice and the sea. Immense 
mountains of floating ice surrounded them, and 
the waves, rolling high, were heaving the ship 
continually westward toward them. In their 
fright, they lowered their boat, in the hope of 
turning the ship away from the ice; but in this 
they failed, the w r aves rolling so high that the 
boat, more than once, came near being swamped. 
" In this extremity,” (says Hudson,) “ it pleased 
God to give us a small gale, at north-west and 
by west. We steered away south-east four 
leagues, till noon. Here we had finished our 
discovery, if the wind had continued that brought 
us hither, or if it had continued calm; but it 
pleased God to make this north-west and by 
west wind the means of our deliverance; which 
wind, we had not found common in this voyage. 
God give us thankful hearts for so great deliver¬ 
ance.” 

The weather cleared up at noon, and they 
saw the ice reflected by the sky, bearing from 
south-west to north-east. As they approached 
still nearer to Greenland, the sky reflected the 
ice still farther and farther, until Hudson was 
satisfied that he could find no passage around 
the north of Greenland. A westerly wind spring- 


32 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ing up, therefore, he altered his course, and 
steered south-east. He now began to think of 
making his way back to England. The thick 
fogs still annoyed him ; his ship stores were be¬ 
ginning to fail; the season, too, was far advanc¬ 
ed, and it was well-nigh certain that he could 
not make the passage this year. Keeping a 
southerly course, he again passed the southern 
coast of Spitzbergen—the land being, as he says, 
“ not ragged, as all the rest we had seen this 
voyage”—came in sight of Cheries Island, for 
which he was keeping a lookout, and saw the 
land covered with cragged rocks, “like hay¬ 
cocks.” Still pressing south, on the 15th of 
August, he put into what he calls “ the Isles of 
Farre,” (meaning, I suppose, the Faroe Islands,) 
and on the 15th of September, he arrived at 
Tilbury Hope on the Thames.* 

Thus you will perceive, that after a hard voy¬ 
age of four months and a half, Hudson returned 
without success. Yet his employers were suffi¬ 
ciently pleased, as we shall soon see, to trust 
him with their second adventure. And though 
he failed in the main enterprise, his voyage was 
far from being useless. 

* The journal of this vovagc, made in 1607, will be found in 
“ Purchas his Pilgrims” written partly by Henry Hudson, 
and partly by John Pleyce, one of his men. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


33 


He advanced farther north than any naviga¬ 
tor had been known to proceed before : his voy¬ 
age opened the commerce of the whale fishery 
to his countrymen ; and some have said that he 
was the discoverer of Spitzbergen.* This last 
supposition, however, is a mistake. While we 
are anxious to give full credit to Hudson for 
whatever he may have done, we should be un¬ 
willing to detract from the fair fame of another 
man. That island was first discovered in the 
year 1596, by William Barentz, a Dutch navi¬ 
gator. It received from him the name of Spitz¬ 
bergen, from its mountainous appearance, and 
the quantities of ice and snow that lay around it. 
The remarkable headland which had been seen 
by Hudson, Barentz had called Vogelhoek , from 
the number of birds that he saw there. After 
this, the island was sometimes, by the Hollanders, 
called Newland. It is strange that any one 
should have thought Hudson the discoverer of 
Spitzbergen, since he himself, in his journal, 
speaks of the island as Newland, evidently know¬ 
ing where it was, and also of the promontory 
Vogelhoek , which I presume was laid down in 
his charts. 

* Forster’s Voyages; Yates and LToulton’s History of New 
York ; Belknap’s American Biography ; Rev. Dr. Miller, in a 
discourse before the New York Historical Society in 1S09. 


34 


HENRY HUDSON. 


The most that can he said is, that Hudson 
rediscovered Spitzbergen, and this has been 
said ;* but it is scarcely true. Hudson’s speak¬ 
ing so plainly of the island, contradicts this state¬ 
ment also. 

All that we claim for him, therefore, in this 
voyage is, that with unwavering fortitude, amid 
constant trials, he pressed his way farther north 
than any other navigator had been before, and 
opened a new and extensive field of commerce 
to the English people. 


Score9by, in his account of the Arctic Regions. 


CHAPTER n. 


Henry Hudson makes his second voyage, in 
search of a North-eastern Passage to India — 
Reaches the north side of Nova Zembla, and is 
stopped by the Ice—Hopes to make his passage 
on the south side by the Vaygatz Straits — Find¬ 
ing a large River or Sound in Nova Zembla, is 
induced to try that for his passage—Sails up 
this—Resolves to return—Searches for Wil¬ 
loughby's Land—Arrives in England after an 
absence of four months and four days. 

As soon as the spring was fairly opened the 
next year, Hudson commenced making his pre¬ 
parations for a second voyage. This time he 
was to seek his passage for the East Indies in 
the north-east, by passing between Spitzbergen 
and Nova Zembla. 

With a crew consisting, in all, of fifteen per 


36 


HENRY HUDSON. 


sons,* (among whom again was his son John 
Hudson,) he set sail from London on the 22d of 
April. The wind was fair, and so continued day 
after day; but as he sailed north, heavy fogs 
again met him, so that it was the 24th of May 
before he found himself off the coast of Norway 
The weather now cleared up, and the cold, which 
had been increasing for some days, became so 
severe that several of the men were taken sick. 
Philip Stacie, the carpenter, seems to have suf¬ 
fered most. Improving this clear weather, he 
pressed north-east as rapidly as he could. On 
the 29th he had reached a latitude so high that 
“ the sun was on the meridian above the horizon 
five degrees,” and he was able to take an obser¬ 
vation at midnight. In two days more his fine 
weather passed away; for, on the 1st of June, 
he had a hard north-easterly gale with snow\ 
For two days he struggled against the storm, 
and on the morning of the 3d he saw the North 
Cape , about eight leagues distant, as he suppos- 


* The names of these persons, as given in the Journal of this 
voyage of 1608, were as follows: “Henry Hudson, master 
and pilot; Robert Juet, mate ; Ludlow Arnall, John Cooke, 
boatswain; Philip Stacie, carpenter; John Barns, John 
Braunch, cook; John Adrev, James Strutton, Michael 
Feirce, Thomas Hilles, Richard Tomson, Robert Raynor 
Humfrey Gilby, and John Hudson. 5 ’ 


HENRY HUDSON. 


37 


ed, and discovered several Norway fishermen in 
sight. Keeping his course north-east, on the 9th 
of June, in the latitude of 75 degrees, he fell in 
with ice, the first he had seen on the voyage. 
Hoping to pass through, he stood into it, loos¬ 
ening some of it, and bearing away from the 
larger masses until he had passed into it four or 
five leagues. Here he found the ice so thick and 
firm ahead, that he began to fear he had pro¬ 
ceeded too far, and might be fastened. This 
forced him to return by the same way he went 
in, fortunately suffering no damage (as he says) 
except “ a few rubs of the ship against the ice.” 

For more than a fortnight he still pressed east¬ 
ward, struggling with the ice, but failed to reach 
a higher latitude. At one time he would meet 
large quantities of drift-wood driving by the ship, 
then he would see large numbers of whales and 
porpoises, and the sea seemed almost cover¬ 
ed with birds floating over it. Then again he 
would see numbers of seals lying upon the ice, 
and hear the bears roaring. It was during this 
fortnight, that two of his men declared they saw 
something stranger than all this. Thomas Hilles 
and Robert Raynor positively asserted, that 
on the morning of the 15th they saw a mermaid 
close by the ship’s side, looking earnestly at 
4 


38 


HENRY HUDSON. 


them. A sea soon came and overturned her; 
but they saw her distinctly. Her body was as 
large as a man’s, her back and breast were like 
a woman’s, her skin very white, and she had long 
black hair hanging down behind. As she went 
dow T n they saw her tail, which was like the tail 
of a porpoise, and speckled like a mackerel. 

On the 25th, being still hemmed in with ice, 
while head winds were still prevailing, he found 
that, in spite of every effort, he was drifting to¬ 
ward the south. He was now convinced that 
he could not proceed farther on the north side of 
Nova Zembla, and resolved to seek his passage 
on the south side of the island, by the straits 
known as “the Vaygatz; to pass by the mouth 
of the River Ob, and to double that way the 
North Cape of Tartaria.” These straits are be¬ 
tween the southernmost parts of Nova Zembla, 
and the northern coast of Russia. He now shaped 
his course south, and the next day, at the dis¬ 
tance of four or five leagues, saw that part of 
Nova Zembla, known by the Hollanders as 
Swart Cliffe. Being only two miles from the 
land, he sent six of his men ashore to take a 
survey of the country, and fill the casks with 
water. They found the shore covered with 
grass; the land was marshy, and several streams, 


HENRY HUDSON. 


39 


made by the melting snow, were rolling through 
it. In looking around, they saw the tracks of 
bears, deers, and foxes; and after picking up 
some whales’ fins and deer’s horns, they returned 
to the ship. The sea was calm as they came 
back, and they saw two or three herds of morses 
swimming near the ship. Hudson now sent 
seven other men ashore to the place where he 
thought the morses might come in; but they 
failed in taking one of them. These men found 
a cross standing on the shore, quantities of drift¬ 
wood, and signs of fires that had been recently 
kindled there. Gathering some moss, and such 
flowers as grew in that cold latitude, and taking 
two pieces of the cross, they also returned to 
the ship. 

On the 29th, they again saw large numbers 
of morses in the water; and in the hope of fol¬ 
lowing them, and finding where they would land, 
they hoisted sail, and got out the boat to tow 
the ship along. The chase proved fruitless: but 
it brought them to the mouth of a broad river or 
sound, where they anchored near a small island. 

• The ice was running rapidly down the stream, 
and they were forced to weigh anchor twice in 
the night, and stand out to free themselves from 
danger. In the morning he again came to his 


40 


HENRY HUDSON. 


old anchorage near the island. On a small rock 
near by, he saw forty or fifty morses lying asleep. 
He sent all his crew after them, except his son 
John; but they succeeded in killing only one of 
them, the rest plunging rapidly in the water. 
Before they came aboard, however, they landed 
on the island, where they killed some fowls and 
found some eggs. 

The thought now struck Hudson, that instead 
of trying his passage by the Vaygatz Straits, he 
would attempt to make his way through this 
broad stream before him. He hoped that in 
this way he might reach the east side of Nova 
Zembla. Then, too, the morses invited him, for 
he hoped by taking them to pay the expenses 
of the voyage. “ Being here,” (he says,) “ and 
hoping, by the plenty of morses we saw here, to 
defray the charge of our voyage; and also that 
this sound might, for some reasons, be a better 
passage to the east of Nova Zembla than the 
Vaygatz, if it held, according to my hope, con¬ 
ceived by the likeness it gave: for whereas we 
had a flood come from the northward, yet this 
sound or river did run so strong, that ice with, 
the stream of this river was carried away, or any¬ 
thing else against the flood: so that both in flood 
and ebb, the stream doth hold a strong course: 


HENRY HUDSON. 


41 


and it floweth from the north three hours and 
ebbeth nine.” 

He now sent the mate, with several of the men, 
to explore the mouth of this river. The next 
day they came back, having their boat laden 
with drift-wood, and bringing with them a large 
deer’s horn, a lock of white hair, and great 
quantities of fowl. They had a very good story 
to tell. They had seen a herd of ten white deer, 
much drift-wood lying on the shore, many good 
bays, and one fine river on the north shore, which 
looked like a good place for morses—though 
they saw none there. They saw signs that the 
morses had been in the bay. As for the particu¬ 
lar river which they were to explore, they had 
found it two or three leagues broad, and no 
ground at twenty fathoms—the water was of the 
color of the sea, very salt, and the stream set 
strongly out of it. 

This report was so encouraging that Hudson 
soon hoisted sail, and steered up the river. In a 
little time he passed a reef, where he found only 
five or six fathoms’ depth, and was then in thirty- 
four fathoms water. He continued his course for 
nine leagues, still finding the water deep, until 
the wind coming out ahead, and the stream run¬ 
ning too strongly against him, he was forced to 
4* 


42 


HENRY HUDSON. 


cast anchor. He now rigged up the boat with 
a sail, and furnishing Juet the mate, and five of 
the crew, with provisions and weapons, sent 
them up the river to take soundings. They were 
to continue their course, provided the water con¬ 
tinued deep, until they found the stream bending 
to the east or southward. The ship was to fol¬ 
low them as soon as a favorable wind offered. 
About the middle of the next day the men re* 
turned very tired, bringing a very unfavorable 
report. They had been up the river six or seven 
leagues, sounding it all the way, until at last 
they found only four feet of water. They knew 
that the ship could not pass this point: so they 
did not explore farther, but after landing, gather¬ 
ing some flowers, and seeing great numbers of 
deer, they returned to the ship. 

All that remained for him now was to return. 
Setting sail, therefore, he passed down the river 
much disappointed, or, as he himself says in the 
Journal, “ with sorrow that our labor was in 
vain; for, had this sound held as it did make 
show of, for breadth, depth, safeness of harbor, 
and good anchor-ground, it might have yielded 
an excellent passage to a more easterly sea.” It 
was here, too, that he seems to have been par¬ 
ticularly pleased with the appearance of Nova 


HENRY HUDSON. 


43 


Zembla, under its arctic midsummer ; for he says, 
" it was to a man’s eye a pleasant land ; much 
main high land, with no snow on it, looking in 
some places green, and deer feeding thereon.” 
In the evening he sent five of his men ashore, 
hoping again that they might find morses; but 
they found none, though they saw many good land¬ 
ing places for them. They discovered signs of a 
fire that had been made on shore, and returned, 
bringing with them a hundred fowls, called 
“ Wellocks.” 

It was now the 6th of July, and Hudson knew 
it was too late to attempt his passage by the 
Vaygatz. He therefore shaped his course west¬ 
ward, hoping to visit by the way Willoughby’s 
Land* that he might see if it was correctly laid 
down in his chart. Still intent upon defraying, 
if possible, the expenses of his voyage, he thought 
if he should find this land he would discover 
there abundance of morses, driven down by the 
ice from Nova Zembla. But, unfortunately, he 
did not come in sight of that land. He was yet 
in the region of the ice, and discovered, as in the 
last voyage, that in the green sea he was most 
free from it, while in the blue sea he was almost 

* Some have supposed that Willoughby's Land is the same 
as Spitzbergen, but this is a mistake. 


44 


HENRY HUDSON. 


sure to be troubled with it. Keeping his west¬ 
erly course, in ten days he saw the promontory 
of Wardhuys off the coast of Lapland, and in a 
little time passed the North, Cape. Being now 
off the coast of Norway, the nights had again 
become so dark that he was forced to use a can¬ 
dle in the binacle, which thing he had not before 
found necessary since the 19th of May. 

Hudson’s heart still leaned toward the experi¬ 
ment of sailing north of Greenland, and he would 
willingly have moved in that direction, but the 
season was now too far advanced ; and he thought 
it his duty “ to save victuall, wages, and tackle, 
and not by foolish rashness, the time being wast¬ 
ed, to lay more charge upon the action than 
necessity should compel.” He kept his course, 
therefore, for England, and arrived at Gravesend 
on the 26th of August, having been absent, this 
time, four months and four days.* 

* The Journal of this voyage, made in 1608, written by Hen- 
ry Hudson himself will also be found in “ Purchas his Pil¬ 
grimsP 


CHAPTER III. 


Henry Hudson's employers disappointed—He 
now passes over to Holland , and seeks employ - 
ment from the Hutch East India Company — 
Leaves Amsterdam on his third voyage , in the 
ship Half Moon, in the spring of 1609 —Fails 
in making his passage through the Vaygatz — 
Sails westward , reaches the coast of America — 
Enters Penobscot Bay—His intercourse with 
the Indians—Passes Cape Cod , and sails south 
beyond Chesapeake Bay—Turns north again 
—Discovers Delaware Bay ; and , passing on , 
drops anchor within Sandy Hook—After a 
week spent in exploring below,passes the Mar¬ 
rows and anchors in Mew York Bay. 

Upon Hudson’s return, the company that had 
employed him were greatly disappointed, and 
unwilling at present to make any farther effort. 
But Hudson’s heart was still bent upon the great 
purpose for which he had been laboring. Un¬ 
willing therefore to wait, he passed over to Hol¬ 
land to offer his services to the Dutch East India 


46 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Company. His fame had gone there before him, 
they all knew him as “ the bold Englishman, 
the expert pilot, and the famous navigator.” 
There was one man of this company, Balthazor 
Moucheron, who had made lar^e and unsuccess¬ 
ful adventures in Arctic voyages, and was there¬ 
fore opposed to another effort, even under Henry 
Hudson. But the company, without overcoming 
his objections, still met the views of Hudson; 
accordingly the small ship (or as some say the 
yacht) Half Moon was soon equipped, and the 
command intrusted to him. With a crew con¬ 
sisting of twenty Englishmen and Dutchmen, or, 
as some say, only sixteen,* among whom was 
Robert Juet, who had served as mate in his last 
voyage, he was now ready to brave again the 
ice and storms of the Arctic seas. 

His object was now to try his passage once 
more by the north side of Nova Zembla, or on 
the south through the Vaygatz Straits. He de¬ 
parted from Amsterdam on the 25th of March, 
and on the 27th, left the Texel. In little more 
than a month he doubled the North Cape, and 
pressing on, was ere long upon the coast of No¬ 
va Zembla. Head winds, ice, and fog here met 
him again, and after more than a fortnight’s 

* Lambrechtsen says, 16 men, Englishmen and Hollanders. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


47 


struggle against them, he gave up the hope of 
reaching India by the Vaygatz, or indeed by 
any north-eastern route. In this time of disap¬ 
pointment, he was not discouraged, but seems 
to have had many plans. He had heard of 
America and the vast discoveries made there; 
and he thought, by sailing westerly, that he 
ioo might make some discovery which would 
repay his employers for his failure. Moreover, 
he had with him some maps which had been 
given to him by his old friend, Captain John 
Smith, on which a strait was marked south of 
Virginia, offering a passage to the Pacific Ocean 
or great South Sea, as it was then called—and 
by this passage he might hope to reach the East 
Indies. Then too, he thought of his former plan ; 
a passage by the north-west, through Davis’s 
Straits. He now proposed to his crew, either to 
seek a passage south through the strait laid down 
by Smith, or to sail for the north-west. Many 
of his men had been trained in the East India ser¬ 
vice, were accustomed to sailing in warm tropical 
climates, and chose therefore, to sail south rather 
than meet the severities of the northern seas. 
Now then, he steered his course westerly, soon 
doubled the North Cape again, and by the last 
of May, reached one of the Faroe Islands. 


43 


HENRY HUDSON. 


He remained here twenty-four hours, and had 
his casks filled with fresh water. They then 
hoisted sail and steered south-west, hoping to 
reach Buss Island, which had b^en discovered in 
1578, by Martin Frolisher. The island was in¬ 
correctly laid down in his chart, and he did not 
find it. He next shaped his course for New¬ 
foundland. For more than three weeks he 
now encountered storms and constant gales of 
wind, until at last his foremast was carried 
away. He rigged up what sailors call a jury- 
mast, but the gales continuing, his foresail was 
split. Notwithstanding the tempests, he man¬ 
aged to run down as far as the forty-fifth degree 
of latitude. Here he met a heavy gale from the 
south-east, but still kept on his course. Three 
days after this he saw a sail standing to the east, 
and hoping “ to speak her,” he turned from his 
course and gave chase; but finding, as night came 
on, that he could not overtake her, he again 
turned westerly. Early in July, he found him¬ 
self off the coast of Neufoundland, and saw a 
great fleet of Frenchmen fishing on the banks. 
Finding himself here becalmed several davs, he 
sent his crew to the banks to try their luck at 
fishing. In this they proved very successful— 
taking in one day one hundred and thirty cod- 


HENRY HUDSON. 


49 


fish. The wind again springing up, they sailed 
westerly. On the 9th, they spoke a Frenchman 
who lay fishing at Sable Island bank. They 
soon cleared the banks, passed the shore of Nova 
Scotia, and on the morning of the 12th, saw the 
coast of North America before them. The fog 
was now so thick that for several days they were 
afraid to approach the land ; hut on the morn¬ 
ing of the 18th, the weather cleared up, and 
they ran into a “ good harbor” at the mouth of 
a large river, in the latitude of forty-four degrees. 
This was Penobscot Bay, on the coast of Maine.* 
Hudson had already seen some of the inhabi¬ 
tants of this new country ; for on the morning 
of the 19th, while they were standing off, unable 
to enter the harbor, two boats came off to him, 
with six of the natives of the country, who 
“ seemed very glad at his coming.” He gave 
them some trifling presents, and they ate and 
drank with him. They told him that there were 
gold, silver, and copper mines near by, and that 
the French people were in the habit of trading 
with them. One of them he found could speak 
a little French. 

* Rev. Dr. Miller, in his lecture delivered before the New 
York Historical Society, in 1809, thinks the place of their ar. 
rival was at or near Portland , in the State of Maine. 

5 


50 


HENRY HUDSON. 


He now made his observation of the harbor. 
He describes it as lying north and south a mile; 
he could see the river a great way up, and found 
that he was in four fathoms of water. The first 
thing to be done, w T as to rig up a new foremast, 
and mend the sails. Some went to work at the 
sails, and others went ashore to cut the mast. 
They needed a fresh supply of water also, and 
some went in search of that, while others amused 
themselves in catching lobsters. In the mean time, 
the people of the country came aboard in great 
numbers. They were very friendly, and seem 
not to have been at all afraid of Hudson’s men, 
while the men were afraid of them, all the time 
saying “ they cculd not be trusted.” Two French 
shallops came to the ship, filled with Indians 
bringing beaver-skins and fine furs, which they 
wished, like Indians, to trade for articles of dress, 
knives, hatchets, kettles, trinkets, beads, and 
other trifles. 

Hudson’s men could not overcome their fool¬ 
ish distrust of these Indians. They were so very 
suspicious, that every night they kept a strict 
watch from the ship, to see where their shallops 
were laid. At last, their mast being ready and 
their sails mended, the day before they started, 
they manned “ the scute” with six men and four 


HENRY HUDSON. 


51 


muskets, took one of the shallops, and brought 
it on board. This was base enough ; but they 
now proceeded to a more disgraceful action. 
They “ manned their boat and ‘scute’ with twelve 
men and muskets, and two stone pieces or mur¬ 
derers, and drove the savages from their houses, 
and took the spoil of them.” It seems that the 
poor natives had never done them the least harm; 
their only excuse for this cowardly meanness, 
being that they supposed they wished to do 
them harm—a supposition without any founda¬ 
tion, proceeding only from their own idle fears 
It is to the disgrace of Hudson, that this thing 
was permitted; and the only excuse that can be 
offered for him is, that he probably had undei 
his command a wild and ungovernable set of 
men. It is said that they had many quarrels 
with the natives, and perhaps, in the exaspera¬ 
tion of their feelings, Hudson found it impossible 
to control them. Even this, however, is a poor 
excuse for him; for he was a man in the habit of 
ruling his men rather than being ruled by them. 
It is to be hoped that he did not willingly allow 
this cruelty to proceed. 

On the next morning (July 26) he set sail, 
steering southward along the coast of America. 
In a little time he came within sight of Cape 


52 


HENRY HUDSON 


Cod. Anxious to double this headland, and 
afraid to approach a coast of which he was ig¬ 
norant, he sent five men in the boat to sound 
along shore. They found the water “ five fathoms 
deep within bow-shot of the shore ;” went on the 
land and discovered “ goodly grapes and rose- 
trees,” which they brought on board the ship. 
He now moved toward the shore, and anchored 
near the north end of the headland. Here he 
heard the voices of men calling to him from the 
shore; and, thinking they might be the cries of some 
poor sailors who had beenleft there, he immediate¬ 
ly sent a part of the crew in the boat to the land. 
Upon .landing, they found that the voices were 
those of the Indians, who were greatly rejoiced to 
see them. They returned, bringing one of these 
Indians aboard with them. After giving him some¬ 
thing to eat, and making him a present of a few 
glass buttons, Hudson sent him ashore again in 
the boat. When he reached the land, he gave 
every sign of joy, dancing, and leaping, and 
throwing up his hands. These Indians were 
great smokers: they had abundance of green 
tobacco and pipes, “ the bowls of which were 
made of earth, and the stems of red copper.” 

After striving to pass west of this headland, 
and move into the bay, which the wind prevent- 


HENRY HUDSON. ' 


53 


ed—he steered south-east, and the next day feL 
in with the southern point of Cape Cod. He 
knew this to he the headland which Bartholomew 
Gosnold had discovered in the year 1602, seven 
years before. He passed Nantucket and Mar¬ 
tha’s Vineyard, and kept his course still south, 
until the 18th of August, when he found himself 
at the entrance of Chesapeake Bay. Here he 
was near the mouth of “ the King’s River* in Vir¬ 
ginia,” upon which many of his countrymen 
were settled; and among these countrymen was 
his early friend Captain John Smith. 

Two years before this, the first English settle¬ 
ment had been made in America. In the year 
1607, two ships and a bark under the command 
of Christopher Newport, bringing one hundred 
and five persons, had passed up the James River. 
Among these men were John Smith, Gosnold, 
Wingfield, and RatclifFe, the leaders of the new 
enterprise; and after hard sufferings and some 
hair-breadth escapes, they had succeeded in set¬ 
tling a colony at Jamestown. It would have 
been delightful to Hudson to have passed up 
that river, and seen his countrymen, and particu¬ 
larly an old friend in the wild forests of America. 


* The James River, named in honor of King James, is here 
alluded to. 

5 * 


54 


HENRY HUDSON. 


He would have heard from that friend many a 
story of matchless adventure, how he had lived 
through the treachery of the Indian King Powha¬ 
tan, and been saved by the noble friendship of 
the Princess Pocahontas. But the wind was 
blowing a gale; and besides this, he felt himself 
bound to serve the main purpose of his employ¬ 
ers, and consequently passed on. * 

He proceeded south still, until he reached the 
thirty-fifth degree of latitude, and then changed 
his course to the north. We are not told in the 
Journal of this voyage, what induced Hudson to 
change his course, but we can readily understand 
the cause. He had gone far enough south to 
learn that his friend Smith was mistaken about 
his passage into the South Pacific Ocean; and 
his desire was now to waste no more time in this 
fruitless search, but to make some discovery 
which might prove profitable to his employers. 

Retracing his course, he found himself occa¬ 
sionally in shallow water as he passed the shores 
of Maryland, and on the 28th, discovered the 
great bay, since known as Delaware Bay. He 
examined here th*e soundings, currents, and the 
appearance of the land, but did not go ashore. 
For nearly a week he now coasted northward, 
“ passing along a low marshy coast, skirted with 


HENRY HUDSON. 


55 


broken islands,” when on the 2d of September, 
he spied the highlands of Neversink. The sight 
pleased him greatly, for he says, <e it is a very 
good land to fall in with, and a pleasant land to 
see.” On the morning of the 3d, the weather 
proved dark and misty, but Hudson, having pas¬ 
sed Long Branch, sent "his boat up to sound. 
The men returning with a favorable report, in 
the afternoon he brought the Half Moon within 
Sandy Hook , and cast anchor in five fathoms of 
water. The next morning, seeing that there 
was “ good anchorage and a safe harbor,” he 
passed farther up and anchored within Sandy 
Hook Bay, at the distance of two cable lengths 
from the shore. 

Having marked great quantities of fish (“ sal¬ 
mon, mullet, and rays”) in the water, he now 
sent his men ashore with a net. It is said that 
they first landed on Coney Island , (now a part 
of Kings County in this State.) They found the 
soil to be mostly white sand, and on the island 
were plum-trees loaded with fruit, and embower¬ 
ed with grape-vines; while snipes and other 
birds were floating over the shore. The fishing 
too, proved good, for they took “ ten mullets a 
foot and a half long apiece, and a ray as great 
as four men could haul into the ship ” 



56 


HENRY HUDSON, 


While the ship lay at anchor, Indians from 
the Jersey shore came on board, and seemed 
greatly delighted to see their new visiters. They 
were dressed in deer-skins, well cured, which 
hung loosely over their shoulders, and had 
copper ornaments and pipes. They seemed to 
have an abundance of food, for their land yield¬ 
ed a fine harvest of maize, or Indian corn, from 
which they made good bread ; but they had 
come, bringing green tobacco, which they wished 
to exchange for beads, knives, and other trinkets. 

In the course of the night a gale sprang up, 
and the ship was driven ashore. Fortunately, 
she was not injured, “ the bottom being soft sand 
and oozy,” and when the flood tide returned in 
the morning, she was easily got off. The boat 
was now lowered, and the men were sent to sound 
the bay. The shores were lined with men, wo¬ 
men, and children, attracted by curiosity, and 
the boat’s men immediately went to the land, where 
they were treated with great kindness. It was the 
Jersey shore which they now reached, and the 
kindness of the natives was such, that they went 
unmolested far back into the woods of what is 
now known as Monmouth County. In this ram¬ 
ble, they weie particularly pleased with the 
beautiful oaks of the country. The natives fol- 


HENRY HUDSON. 


57 


lowed them with their kindness, giving them pre¬ 
sents of green tobacco and dried currants. They 
observed that some of these natives were dressed 
more richly than those seen before. These had 
ornaments of copper around the neck, and wore 
mantles made of fine furs or feathers. Notwith¬ 
standing all the kindness of these Indians, like 
the poor natives at Penobscot, they were still 
“ suspected, though friendly.” 

Hudson, in making his observations, had dis¬ 
covered, as he thought, that the bay in which he 
lay, seemed to be the entrance to a large river, 
four leagues distant ; and the boat having re¬ 
turned, he now sent five men in her to make 
soundings in that direction. What he saw was 
probably the strait between Long and Staten 
Islands, now known as the Narrows. They pas¬ 
sed through the Narrows, sounding as they went, 
and discovered the hills between Staten Island 
and Bergen Neck. They found the land as they 
passed, covered with trees, grass, and flowers, the 
fragrance of which was delightful; and after 
going six miles into the bay of New York, turn¬ 
ed back. On their return to the ship, when it 
was nearly dark, they were attacked by two 
canoes, containing twenty-six Indians. It was 
raining hard, and their match was extinguished, 


58 


HENRY HUDSON. 


so that they could only trust to their oars to 
make their escape. Unfortunately, one of the 
men (John Colman, who had been with Hudson 
in his first hard voyage) was killed by an arrow 
that struck him in the neck, and two others were 
slightly w r ounded. It was now very dark, and 
they lost their way, wandering to and fro all 
night, unable to find the ship. It is said that but 
for the darkness, they w r ould all have been mur¬ 
dered, but this I can hardly believe. Notwith¬ 
standing this attack, I do not think the Indians 
had any wicked intentions toward these men; 
for it is strange, if they had, that they did not 
pursue them, and at least take the wounded men 
in the boat. It is probable, that in the darkness, 
the Indians were themselves surprised and fright¬ 
ened at meeting the boat; shot at her, and moved 
away as fast as possible. The next day the 
boat returned, bringing the dead body of Col¬ 
man. Hudson ordered it to be taken ashore and 
buried at Sandy Hook, and in memory of the 
poor fellow who had met so sad a fate, called 
the place Colman’s Point. 

When the men returned from this sad duty, 
the boat was hoisted in, and they immediately 
commenced erecting bulwarks on the sides of 
the ship; and when night came on, they kept a 


HENRY HUDSON. 


59 


strict lookout, expecting an attack from the na¬ 
tives. But their preparations were idle. The 
natives seem not even to have thought of attack¬ 
ing them; for the next day, some of them again 
came on board in the most friendly manner, 
bringing Indian corn and tobacco, to trade with 
the sailors. They did not even seem to know 
that any thing had happened. 

The next day after, however, matters did look 
little serious, when two large canoes came off 
to the ship, the one filled with' men armed with 
bows and arrows, the other under the pretence 
of trading with them. Hudson now would only 
allow two of them to come on board ; these he 
kept, and dressed them up in red coats. All the 
rest returned to the shore, when presently an¬ 
other canoe approached, bringing only two men. 
He thought now it was best to take every pre¬ 
caution ; so he took one of these men, intending, 
probably, to keep him with the others as hostages 
for the good behavior of their countrymen. He 
had scarcely taken this last one, however, when 
he jumped up, leaped overboard, and swam to 
the shore. Hudson now weighed anchor, and 
moved off into the channel of the Narrows for 
the night. In the morning, he went over “ to¬ 
wards the east sand-bank, found it shallow, and 


60 


HENRY HUDSON. 


again anchored.” The day after, (it being the 
11th of September,) having spent a week in 
exploring south of the Narrows, he passed 
through them into the Bay of New York, and 
finding it “ an excellent harbor for all winds,” 
once more cast anchor. Hare he remained until 
the next day: the people of the country (as he 
says) again coming to see him, “ making great 
show of love, giving tobacco and Indian wheat, 
but we could not trust them.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


The Indian tradition of the first landing of white 
men in the State of New York , as given by the 
Indians themselves , to the Rev. Mr. Heckewel- 
der , a Moravian Missionary among the Indians 
of Pennsylvania. 

It was the 12th of September, and Hudson 
was ready to move up the great river which 
opened before him. Before we follow him in his 
course, however, there is an Indian tradition as 
regards “ his first landing,” which I wish to lay 
before you. Some say his first landing was upon 
Coney Island, others at Sandy Hook, others on 
the Jersey shore, while some declare it was on 
Manhattan Island, and others again say at Alba¬ 
ny. It is impossible perhaps, to say where it 
was, and as far as the story is concerned it mat¬ 
ters but little, for the tradition is the same, let the 
landing have been where it may. 

This tradition is well authenticated, having 

6 


62 


HENRY HUDSON. 


been originally given by the Indians themselves 
to tne Rev. John Heckewelder, for many years a 
Moravian missionary to the Indians in Pennsyl¬ 
vania. It runs as follows:— 

“ A long time ago, when there was no such 
thing known to the Indians as people with a 
white skin, some Indians who had been out a 
fishing, and where the sea widens, espied at a 
great distance, something remarkably large, swim¬ 
ming or floating on the water, and such as they 
had never seen before. They immediately re¬ 
turning to the shore, told their countrymen of 
what they had seen, and pressed them to go out 
with them, and discern what it might be. These 
together hurried out, and saw to their great sur¬ 
prise the phenomenon, but could not agree what 
it might be, some concluding it to be an uncom¬ 
monly large fish or other animal, while others 
were of opinion it must be some very large 
house. It was at length agreed among them, 
that as this phenomenon moved toward the land, 
whether it was an animal or not, it would be 
well to inform all the Indians of what they had 
seen, and put them on their guard. Accordingly 
they sent runners to carry the news to their scat¬ 
tered chiefs, that they might send off in every 
direction for the warriors to come in. These 


HENRY HUDSON. 


63 


now came in numbers, and seeing the strange 
appearance, and that it was actually moving 
forward, concluded that it was a large canoe 
or house, in which the Great Manitto * himself 
was, and that he probably was coming to visit 
them. By this time the chiefs of the different 
tribes were assembled on York Island, and were 
counselling as to the manner in which they 
should receive the Manitto on his arrival. They 
now provided plenty of meat for a sacrifice; the 
women were required to prepare the best of 
victuals; their idols or images were examined 
and put in order; and a grand dance was sup¬ 
posed not only to be an agreeable entertainment 
for the Manitto , but might, with the addition of 
a sacrifice, contribute toward appeasing him in 
case he was angry. The conjurers were also 
set to work to determine what the meaning of 
this phenomenon w r as, and what the result w^ould 
be. To these, and to the chiefs and wise men of 
the nation, men, women, and children were look¬ 
ing up for advice and protection.- Being at a 
loss what to do, between hope and fear, and in 
confusion, a dance commenced. In the mean 
time, fresh runners arrived, declaring it to be a 


Their name for the Supreme Being. 


64 


HENRY HUDSON 


great house of various colors that was coming, 
and filled with living creatures. It now appeared 
certain that it was their Manitto coming, bringing 
probably some new kind of game. But other 
runners now came in, declaring that it was a 
house of various colors and filled with people, 
but that the people were of a different color from 
themselves ; that they were also dressed in a dif¬ 
ferent manner from them, and that one in partic¬ 
ular appeared altogether red. This they thought 
must be the Manitto himself. They were now 
lost in admiration. Presently they were hailed 
from the vessel, but in a language they could 
not understand, and were able to answer only by 
a yell. Many were now for running into the 
woods, while others pressed them to stay, in or¬ 
der not to offend their visiters, who could find 
them out and might easily destroy them. The 
house (or large canoe) stopped, and a smaller ca¬ 
noe now came ashore, bringing the red man and 
some others in it. Some stayed by this canoe to 
guard it. The chiefs and wise men formed a 
circle, into which the red clothed man and two 
others approached. He saluted them with a 
friendly countenance, and they returned the sa¬ 
lute after their manner. They were amazed at 
the color of their skin and their dress, particu- 


HENRY HUDSON. 


65 


larly at the red man, whose clothes glittered* 
with something they could not account for. 
He must be the great Manitto , they thought, but 
then why should he have a white skin ? A large 
elegant HockhacJcf was brought forward by 
one of the Manitto’s servants, and something 
poured from it into a small cup or glass, and 
handed to the Manitto. He drank it, had the 
cup refilled, and had it handed to the chief next 
to him for him to drink. The chief took it, 
smelt it, and passed it to the next, who did the 
same. The cup passed in this way round the 
circle, untasted, and was about to be returned to 
the red clothed man, when one of their number, 
a spirited man and a great warrior, jumped up, 
and harangued the multitude on the impropriety 
of returning the cup unemptied. ‘ It was handed 
to them, 5 he said, ‘ by the Manitto to drink out 
of as he had done; that to follow his example 
w T ould please him, but to return what he had 
given them might provoke him and cause him 
to destroy them. And that since he believed it to 
be for the good of the nation that the contents 
offered them should be drunk, if no one else was 
willing to drink, he would try it, let the conse- 

* This was probably the lace and buttons. 

f Meaning gourd, or bottle. 

6 * 


66 


HENRY HUDSON. 


quence be what it would, for it was better for 
one man to die, than that a whole nation should 
be destroyed. He then took the glass, smelt it, 
addressed them again, and bidding them all fare¬ 
well, drank it. All eyes were now fixed upon 
him, to see w hat effect this would have upon him. 
He soon began to stagger, arid the women cried, 
supposing that he had fits. Presently he rolled 
on the ground, and they all began to bemoan 
him, supposing him to be dying. Then he fell 
asleep, and they thought now that he w T as dead, 
but presently they saw that he was still breath¬ 
ing. In a little time he awoke, jumped up, and 
declared that he never felt himself before so hap¬ 
py, as after he had drunk the cup. He asked 
for more, w^hich was given to him, and the wdiole 
assembly soon joined him, and all became intox¬ 
icated.’ 

“ While the intoxication lasted, the wdiite men 
kept themselves in their vessel, and w 7 hen it was 
over, the man with the red clothes again return¬ 
ed to them, bringing them presents of beads, 
axes, hoes, and stockings. They soon now be¬ 
came familiar, and talked by making signs. The 
whites made them understand that they should 
now return home, but the next year they should 
visit them again with presents, and stay with 


HENRY HUDSON* 


67 


them a while. But as they could not live with¬ 
out eating, they should then want a little land 
to sow seeds, in order to raise herbs to put into 
their broth. Accordingly a vessel arrived the 
next season,* when they were much rejoiced to 
see each other — but the white men laughed 
at them when they saw the axes and hoes hang¬ 
ing to their breasts as ornaments, and the stock¬ 
ings used for tobacco pouches. The whites now 
put handles or helves in the former, and cut down 
trees and dug the ground before their eyes, and 
showed them the use of the stockings. Then all 
the Indians laughed, to think that they had been 
ignorant of the use of these things so long, and 
had carried these heavy articles hung around 
their necks. They took every white man they 
saw for a Manitto, yet inferior to the Supreme 
Manitto; to wit, to the one who wore the shin¬ 
ing red clothes. They now became more famil¬ 
iar, and the whites now reminded them that they 
wanted some land ; and asked if they might have 
as much land as the hide of a bullock spread 
before them would cover (or encompass.) Their 
request w T as readily granted. The white men 

* It will be remembered that another ship was sent out 
by the Dutch the next year, after the discovery of Henry 
Hudson. 


68 


HENRY HUDSON. 


then took a knife, and beginning at one place on 
the hide, cut it up into a rope not thicker than 
the finger of a little child, so that by the time 
this hide was cut up, there was a great heap. 
They then took the rope and drew it gently along 
(to keep it from breaking) in a circular form, 
and took in a large piece o'f ground. The In¬ 
dians were surprised at the superior wit of the 
whites, but did not wish to contend with them 
about a little land, as they had enough. They 
lived contentedly together for a long time : the 
whites from time to time asking for more land, 
which was readily granted to them. And thus 
they gradually went higher and higher up the 
Mahicannituck River * until they began to be¬ 
lieve they "would soon want all their country, 
which proved at last to be the case.”f 

This tradition is remarkably confirmed by a 
Dutch historian,^ who wrote his history only 
forty-three years after the discovery of Henry 
Hudson. He says, “ that the Indians or natives 

* One of the Indian names for the Hudson. 

f This tradition will be found in Yates and Moulton’s His¬ 
tory of New York—in the first volume of Hist, and Lit. Trans¬ 
actions of the American Philosophical Society—and again in 
the New York Historical Collection, vol.i., New Series. 

^Adrian Van der Donck, in his description of the New 
Netherlands. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


69 


of the land, many of whom are still living, and 
with whom I have conversed, declare freely that 
before the arrival of the Lowland ship, the Half 
Moon, in the year 1609, they, the natives, did 
not know that there were any other people in 
the world, than those who were like themselves, 
much less, any people who differed so much in 
appearance from them as we did. When some 
of them first saw our ship approaching at a dis¬ 
tance, they did not know what to think about 
her, but stood in deep and solemn amazement, 
wondering whether it were a ghost or apparition, 
coming down from heaven, or from hell. Others 
of them supposed her to be a strange fish or sea 
monster. When they discovered men on board, 
they supposed them to be more like devils than 
human beings. Thus they differed about the 
ship and men. A strange report was spread 
about the country concerning the ship and visit, 
which created great astonishment and surprise 
among the Indians.” 

There is another story told to the same pur¬ 
pose in a history of these times written only 
forty-one years after Hudson’s discovery. “ In 
1609, (as the story reads,) the privileged East 
India Company, by the ship the Half Moon, the 
Captain whereof was Henrick Hutson, discover- 


70 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ed first the country which our people call New 
Netherlands: insomuch that even now inhabi¬ 
tants of the country remember it, and witness, 
that when the Dutch ships came hither first and 
"were seen by them, they did not know whether 
they came from heaven or were devils. Others 
thought them to be sea monsters or fishes.* They 
knew before nothing of other sort of men : a 
strange tale thereof run through their country 
now.”f 

It is said that the tribe of Delaware Indians, 
even to this day, call New York Mannahatta - 
nink, meaning thereby, the Island or place of 
general intoxication.% 

* It is remarked by Yates and Moulton in their history, that 
the same fright seized the minds of the Indians bordering on 
Detroit river, at the time the Lake Erie steamboat “ Walk-in 
the-Water” made her first appearance in that river, advancing 
against wind and tide, and sending forth volumes of flame 
and smoke. 

fMS. in the New York Historical Society, cited in Yates 
and Moulton’s History of New York, Part I. page 257. 

X u The Mahicanni or Mohicans call it by the same name 
as the Delawares, but think the name was given in consequence 
of a kind of wood which grew there, of which the Indians 
used to make their bows and arrows. 

“ The name the Monseys have for New York is Laapha - 
tvachking, meaning the place of stringing wampum beads. 
They say this name was given in consequence of the distribu¬ 
tion of beads among them by Europeans, and that after the 
European vessel returned, wherever one looked, the Indians 
were seen stringing the beads and wampum that the whites 
gave them.”— Yates and Moulton. 


CHAPTER V. 


Hudson explores the river since called by his 
name—Escape of the two Indians—Strange 
experiment of Hudson to learn the treachery 
of the natives—The Half Moon reaches as far as 
the present site of Albany—The boat ascends 
to Waterford—Hudson returns down the river 
—Battle with the natives at the head of Man¬ 
hattan Island—Sails from the bay , and 
reaches England , after an absence of seven 
months from Europe. 

We left Hudson in his little ship the Half 
Moon, resting quietly upon the waters of New 
York Bay, and we will now trace him in his 
course up the beautiful stream which since bears 
his name. What must have been the feelings of 
the great navigator as he looked upon the waters 
of that stream as they came rolling to the sea! It 
was certain that he had discovered a new and 


72 


HENRY HUDSON. 


unknown region which might in some degree 
repay his employers; and then, who could 
tell but that the river before him, coming far 
from the north, might prove the long desired 
passage to the gems and spices of the East 
Indies. 

On the morning of the 12th, while he was 
still at his anchorage, twenty-eight canoes, filled 
with men, women, and children, came off to see 
him, bringing oysters and clams to trade for tri¬ 
fles. These Indians had “ great tobacco pipes of 
yellow copper, and pots of earth to dress their 
meat in.” Hudson’s men seem, as usual, to have 
been suspicious of them, and though they traded 
with them, none of them were allowed to come 
on board. 

About noon, with a heart full of hope, he 
weighed anchor, and moved into the river. The 
wind was not fair; so that he made only two 
leagues, and again anchored for the night. The 
place off which he lay is supposed to have been 
what is now Manhattanville. The next day, the 
wind being ahead, he managed, by the help of 
the flood tide, to pass up only eleven miles high¬ 
er. This brought him to what is now known as 
Yonkers, and again he cast anchor. In the course 
of this day, he was again visited by Indians, 


HENRY HUDSON. 


73 


bringing provisions, and they seemed very friend¬ 
ly ; but; his crew suspected these also, and none 
of them came on board the ship. 

The day following the weather was fair, and 
a fine breeze springing up from the south-east, 
he passed up through Tappan and Haverstraw 
bays, “ the river” (as the journal says) “ being 
a mile wide, and anchored at night about thir¬ 
ty-six miles higher, in a region where the land 
was very high and mountainous.” He was now 
evidently in the neighborhood of “ the High¬ 
lands,” and his anchorage was probably near 
West Point 

Hudson and his men seem to have been struck 
with the wild and beautiful appearance of the 
country: and strange must have been his feel¬ 
ings, when in his little “ yacht,” moored beneath 
the Highlands, the shadows of night fell over 
him. He had braved the tempests of the north, 
and seen the monsters of the ocean, but all now 
was a new world around him. A wild and beau¬ 
tiful wilderness hung over him. Perhaps in 
the distance he might see the camp fires of 
straggling Indians: then he might hear the 
screechings of the owls, and the scream of pan¬ 
thers in the wilderness above him, or perhaps 
7 


74 


HENRY HUDSON 


be startled by the strange and tremendous roar 
of the “ Naked Bear” of the Indians.* 

* “ Yagesho , or Naked Bear .”—In a note to Y ates and Moul¬ 
ton’s History of New York, there is a singular Indian tradition 
of a remarkable animal that lived in the northern parts of 
New York about two centuries ago. The note cites the man¬ 
uscript of Mr. Heckewelder for the truth of it. The story, as 
given in the note, is the following:— 

“ The Yagesho was an animal much superior to the largest 
bear, remarkably long bodied, broad down by its shoulders, 
but thin or narrow just at its hind legs, (or where the body ter¬ 
minated.) It had a large head and fearful look. Its legs 
were short and thick. Its paws (to the toes of which were 
nails or claws, nearly as long as an Indian’s finger) spread 
very wide. It was almost bare of hair, except the head and 
on the hinder parts of its legs, in which places the hair 
was very long. For this reason the Indians gave it the name of 
‘ Naked Bear .’ 

“ Several of these animals had been destroyed by the In' 
dians, but the one of which the folloAving account is given had 
escaped them, and for years had from time to time destroyed 
many Indians, particularly women and children, when they 
were out in the woods gathering nuts, digging roots, or at 
work in the field. Hunters, when overtaken by this animal, * 
had no way of escaping, except when a river or lake was at 
hand, by plunging into the stream and swimming out or down 
the stream to a great distance. When this was the case, and 
the beast was not able to pursue farther, then he would set up 
such a roaring noise, that every Indian hearing it would trem¬ 
ble. The animal preyed on every beast it could lay hold of. 

It would catch and kill the largest bears and devour them. 
While bears were plenty, the Indians had not so much to dread 
from him, but when this was not the case, it would run 
about the, woods, searching for the track or scent of hunters, 
and foUow them up. The women were so afraid of going out 


HENRY HUDSON. 


75 


The next morning a mist hung over the riv¬ 
er and mountains until sunrise, when it cleared 
up with a fair wind. Just as he was weighing 
anchor, a circumstance happened, which after¬ 
ward gave him trouble. The two Indians whom 
he held as hostages made their escape through 

to work, that the men assembled to consider on some plan for 
tilling him. At or near a lake where the water flowed two 
ways, or has two different outlets, one on the northerly and 
the other on the southerly end, this beast had his residence, of 
which the Indians were well informed. A resolute party, well 
provided with bows, arrows, and spears, made toward the lake. 
On a high perpendicular rock they stationed themselves, 
climbing up this rock by means of Indian ladders, and then 
drawing these after them. After being well fixed, and having 
taken up a number of stones, they began to imitate the voices 
and cries of the various beasts of the wood, and even that of 
children, in order to decoy him thither. Having spent some 
days without success, a party took a stroll to some distance 
from the rock. Before they had reached the rock again, this 
beast had got the scent of them, and was in full pursuit of 
• them, yet they reached the rock before he arrived. When he 
came to the rock he was in great anger, sprang against it with 
his mouth wide open, grinning and seizing the rock as if he 
would tear it to pieces. He had several times sprung nearly 
up. During all this time, numbers of arrows and stones were 
discharged at him, and at last he dropped down and expired- 
His head being cat off, it was carried in triumph to their vil¬ 
lage or settlement on the North River, and there set up on a 
pole for view: and the report spreading among the neighbor¬ 
ing tribes, numbers came to view the same, and to exalt the 
victo/ircs for this warlike deed. The Mahicanni claim the 
honor of this act.” 


76 


HENRY HUDSON. 


the port-holes of the ship and swam to the shore, 
and as soon as the ship was under way, they 
were seen standing on the shore making loud and 
angry cries, and looking at them “ with scornful 
looks.” They now moved up the river, “ passing 
by the high mountains,” until, having sailed fifty 
miles, they came at night in sight of “ other 
mountains which lie from the river side.” Here 
they found (as the journal says) “ very loving 
people and very old men,” who treated them very 
kindly. Having cast anchor here, (which was 
probably near what is now Catskill Landing,) 
Hudson sent the boat off, and the men caught 
large quantities of fine fish. 

It was here, perhaps, that the pleasant inter¬ 
view happened (of which we read in an old his¬ 
tory of the times*) between Hudson and an old 
chief of the Indians. The story is, that he went 
on shore in one of their canoes with an old man, * 
who was the chief of forty men and seventeen 
women. These he saw in a large circular house 
made of oak bark. In the house, he discovered 
a large quantity of maize or Indian corn, and 
beans of the last year’s growth, and near the 
house, for the purpose of drying, there lay enough 
to load their ship, besides what was growing 
* De Laet’s New World. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


77 


in the fields. Upon his entering the house, two 
mats were immediately spread out to sit upon, 
and food was brought forward in large red bowls 
made of wood. In the mean time, two men 
w T ere despatched with bows and arrows in search 
of game. Soon after, they returned with a pair 
of pigeons; then they killed a fat dog, and 
skinned it in great haste for their guest, with 
shells which they had got out of the water. 
After the feast, they supposed that Hudson would 
remain all night with them. But upon his shew¬ 
ing signs of departure, the hospitable old man 
became very uneasy—and his people, supposing 
that the guest might be leaving because he was 
afraid of them, took all their arrows, and break¬ 
ing them in pieces, cast them into the fire. 

The quantities of fish taken the evening before, 
now induced Hudson (the next morning being 
warm and fair) to send some of the men out 
upon another fishing party. This time, however, 
they were not so successful; for the natives had 
been there all night in their canoes. In the 
mean time, the Indians flocked on board the ship, 
bringing Indian corn, pumpkins, and tobacco. 
The whole day was consumed in trading with 
these friendly people, and filling the water casks 
with fresh water. Towards night, he again set 
7 * 


78 


HENRY HUDSON. 


sail, and passing some six miles higher up, found 
the water shoal and cast anchor. He was now 
probably near the spot where the city bearing 
his name has since grown up. The weather was 
warm, and Hudson determined to take advantage 
of the cool hours of the morning. At dawn, 
therefore, the next day he weighed anchor, and 
ran up the river “ six leagues higher”—but find¬ 
ing shoals and small islands in the middle of the 
river, he once more stopped. As night came on, 
the vessel drifted near the shore and grounded; 
but they “ layed out there small anchor and 
heaved her off again.” In a little time, she was 
aground again in the channel$ but when the 
flood-tide rose she floated off, and then they an¬ 
chored for the night. This anchorage, it is 
thought, was somewhere near Castleton. 

The next day was fair, and he “ rode still” all 
day. In the afternoon, he went ashore with 
“ an old savage, a governor of the country, who 
carried him to his house, and made him good 
cheer.”* With the flood tide, about noon on 
the following day, he ran up “ two leagues above 
the shoals,” and cast anchor again in eight 
fathoms of water. The natives now came on 

* Possibly it was here that the scene described by De Laet 
occurred. 


HENKY HUDSON. 


79 


board in crowds, bringing grapes, pumpkins, 
beaver and other skins, for which the sailors 
readily gave them beads, knives, and hatchets. 

Here Hudson seems to have had some misgiv¬ 
ings as to the depth of the river above him. He 
had now been seven or eight days in reaching 
this point, and his ship had been aground, and 
his soundings shallow, more than once in the 
last three days. The next day, therefore, (the 
morning of the 20th,) he sent the mate with four 
men in the boat to explore the river and take 
soundings. They were gone nearly the whole 
day, and returned with the report that “ the 
channel was very narrow that two leagues 
above, they found only two fathoms’ water, 
though in some places there was a better depth. 
The next morning they were about starting 
again, to explore the depth and breadth of the 
stream, (for the wind was fair, and Hudson was 
anxious to move up with the ship,) but were 
prevented by the great crowds of Indians that 
came flocking on board. They seem again to 
have been afraid of these men, and unwilling to 
leave the ship while they were there. Finding 
that he was not likely to make any progress on 
that day, Hudson sent the carpenter ashore to 
make a new foreyard for the ship, and determin- 


80 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ed with his men, in the mean time, to make ait 
experiment with some of these Indians, that he 
might learn if they were treacherous. 

This experiment was a strange one; it wa* 
neither more nor less than intoxicating some of 
the Indian chiefs, and thereby throwing them 
“ off their guard.” He therefore took several of 
them down into the cabin, and gave them plenty 
of wine and brandy, until they were all merry. 
The poor women looked innocently on, for we 
are told particularly of the wife of one of these 
merry chiefs, who “ sate in the cabin as modest¬ 
ly as any of our countrywomen would do in a 
strange place.” The men drank plentifully, and 
presently one of them became so drunk that he 
fell asleep. The rest were now frightened, sup¬ 
posing him to be poisoned, and immediately took 
to their canoes and pushed for the shore. They 
did not, however, forget the poor man on board ; 
for some of them soon returned, bringing long 
strings of beads, which they hoped the whites 
■would accept, and release their poor country¬ 
man. 

The poor Indian slept soundly all night, and 
the next day, when his countrymen came to see 
him, they were rejoiced to find him well. They 
returned to the shore, and about three o’clock 


HENRY HUDSON. 


81 


came again, bringing beads and tobacco, which 
they gave to Hudson. One of them made a long 
oration, and shewed him all the country round 
about. Anxious still farther to shew him their 
gratitude, they now sent one of their number 
ashore, who presenly returned with a large plat¬ 
ter of venison, dressed in their own style, and 
placed it before Hudson, that he might eat with 
them. After this, they all “ made him reverence” 
and departed. 

In the morning before all this scene took place, 
Hudson had again started the mate with the four 
men to sound the river. At ten o’clock at night 
he came back in a hard showier of rain, bringing 
a bad report once more. He had ascended the 
river eight or nine leagues, and found only seven 
feet water and very irregular soundings. 

Disappointed in not finding this the passage to 
the East, Hudson was cheered by the reflection 
that he had passed up this noble stream nearly 
one hundred and fifty miles, and discovered a 
beautiful and fertile region, for the future enter¬ 
prise of his employers. Pie now prepared for 
his return.* 

* How far did Hudson ascend the river? The Rev. Dr. Mil 
er (in his lecture before the New York Historical Society in 
*809) thinks that the ship Half Moon reached a little above 
<vhere the city of Hudson now stands, while the boat which 


82 


HENRY HUDSON. 


About mid-day on tbe 23d, he commenced re¬ 
tracing his way, and went down the river only 
six miles, the wind being ahead. On the 24th, 
he ran down twenty-four miles farther and 
anchored, (it is supposed between Athens and 
Hudson.) Here he was detained four days by 
head winds, but the time was spent pleasantly 
and profitably in surveying the country. Some 
of the men went on shore gathering chestnuts, 
and others strolled along the bank making their 
observations. They found “ good ground for 
corn and other garden herbs, with good store of 
goodly oaks and walnut-trees and chestnut-trees, 
yew-trees and trees of sweet wood, in great abun¬ 
dance, and great store of slate for houses and 
other good stones.” While they lay at this an¬ 
chorage, they had a visit from one who consid¬ 
ered himself at least an old friend. On the 
morning of the 26th, two canoes came up from 
the place where they met “ the loving people,” 

was sent to explore and take soundings, went as far as the 
site of the city of Albany. Other writers, however, disagree 
with him. After examining carefully the journal of this voy¬ 
age, calculating the distances run, with other circumstances, 
and especially bearing in mind that the small yacht, the Half 
Moon, was probably not so large as many of the sloops now 
sailing on the North River, they seem fairly to conclude that 
the Half Moon went nearly as high as the spot where Albany 
now stands, while the boat passed up as far as Waterford. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


83 


(Catskill Landing,) and in one of them was the 
old chief who had been made drunk above, and 
given so much alarm to his countrymen. The 
friendship of this old man must have been strong, 
for he seems to have followed them even to 
the Catskill mountains. He brought now anoth¬ 
er old chief with him, who presented strings of 
beads to Hudson, and “ showed him all the 
country thereabout, as though it were at his 
command.” The old man’s wife was along, 
with three other Indian women. Hudson was very 
kind to them, invited them all to dine with him, 
after dinner gave them presents, and they de¬ 
parted begging that he would visit them as 
he passed by, for the place where they lived 
was only two leagues off. 

The wind being north on the morning of the 
27th, they set sail and moved onward. As they 
passed the old man’s home, (Catskill Landing,) 
he came off again, hoping they would cast anchor, 
and go ashore and eat with him. The wind was 
too fair and inviting for them to listen to his in¬ 
vitation, and he left them, “ being very sorrowful 
for their departure.” Toward night they reach¬ 
ed the neighborhood of what is known as Red 
Hook Landing, and there had fine fishing. For 
the two next days his progress was very slow, 


84 


HENRY HUDSON. 


for on the morning of the 30th, we are told, his 
ship was anchored off “ the northernmost of the 
mountains,” meaning, I suppose, the head of the 
highlands. £Jere again, the natives came on board 
in a friendly manner. Detained for a day by head 
winds, he observed the country closely. The 
description of the land near them is very minute, 
and the town of Newburgh has arisen, perhaps, 
upon the very spot of which the journal speaks. 
“ This” (says the journal) “ is a very pleasant 
place to build a town on. The road is very near, 
and very good for all winds, save an east-north¬ 
east wind.” Here, too, they were struck with 
the strange appearance of some of the mountains. 
“ The mountains look as if some metal or min¬ 
eral were in them. For the trees that grow on 
them were all blasted, and some of them barren, 
with few or no trees on them. The people brought 
a stone aboard like to emery, (a stone used by 
glaziers to cut glass;) it would cut iron or steele, 
yet being bruised small and water put to it, it 
made a color like black lead, glistering. It is 
also good for painters’ colors.” On the 1st of 
October, with a fair wind he sailed through the 
highlands, and reached as far as the neighbor¬ 
hood of Stony Point, when being becalmed he 
cast anchor. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


85 


No sooner had they anchored, than the natives 
were crowding aboard, astonished at, and ad¬ 
miring everything they saw. They came trading 
with skins, but these could not procure all that 
they desired. One poor fellow, therefore, was 
prompted to steal. He swept his canoe lightly 
under the stern, crawled up the rudder into the 
cabin window, and stole a pillow with some 
articles of clothing. The mate saw him as he 
moved off with his canoe, shot at him and killed 
him. The rest now fled in terror, some taking 
to their canoes, and some plunging into the 
stream. The ship’s boat was manned at once, 
and sent to secure the stolen articles. These were 
easily obtained ; but as the boat came back, one 
of the Indians who was swimming in the water 
took hold of her, endeavoring to overturn her. 
The cook now drew a sword, and with one 
blow cut off his hand. The poor creature sank 
to the bottom—never to rise again. They now 
returned to the ship, got under way immediate¬ 
ly, and passing down six miles farther, anchored, 
near dark, off the mouth of Croton river, near 
the entrance into Tappan Sea. 

The next day, with a fair wind, they sailed 
twenty-one miles, which must have brought 
them somewhere near the head of Manhattan 
8 


86 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Island. Here they soon found themselves in 
trouble. The two Indians who had escaped from 
the ship on their way up, angry and indignant 
at their captivity, had roused a number of their 
countrymen along the shores of the river, and 
they were now assembled near this point to 
attack Hudson on his return. A canoe ap¬ 
peared, in which was one of those who had 
escaped, and many others armed with bows and 
arrows. Hudson suspected something from their 
appearance, and none of them were allowed to 
come on board. Presently, two canoes filled 
with armed men dropped under the stern, and 
the attack was commenced with their bows and 
arrows — six muskets were fired from the ship, 
and three Indians fell dead. The Indians on the 
land, marking what was done, were now exas¬ 
perated the more: they moved down to the 
shore in a solid body, (“ about one hundred of 
them,”) and made ready with their bows as the 
ship passed slowly on. A cannon was now fired 
from the ship upon them, and two more Indians 
fell. The rest fled for the woods, with the excep¬ 
tion of nine or ten desperate men, who were 
resolved upon revenge. These jumped into a 
canoe, and advanced to meet the ship. The 
cannon was again discharged, the canoe “ shot 


HENRY HUDSON. 


87 


through,” and another man killed — at the same 
time the men fired again with their muskets and 
killed three or four men. Thus the fight ended with 
the loss of nine Indians. The ship now moved 
on her way, and at the distance of “ two leagues” 
dropped anchor under the shores of what is now 
known as Hoboken. The next day was stormy; 
but the morning of the 4th dawned upon them 
with a fair wind. Hudson again weighed an¬ 
chor, passed through the bay, and with all sails 
set, put out to sea once more.* 

It is said, that Hudson’s crew had more than 
once been dissatisfied at the length of this voy¬ 
age, and at one time even threatened an open 
mutiny. He thought it best, therefore, to learn 
of them now what they desired to do; whether 
to return to Holland, or steer north again. One 
man (the mate) was in favor of wintering in 
Newfoundland, and seeking a passage to the 
East by Davis’ Straits. But Hudson, perceiving 
the mutinous spirit of the men, opposed this, giv¬ 
ing as his reason, the privations and sorrows gf 
a northern winter in a strange land. He kept 
his course, therefore, homeward, and on the 7th 

* The author has followed Hudson very minutely in his 
voyage on the River, because he supposed this part of his 
career had more than an ordinary interest for his young coun 
trymen and especially those of the State of New York. 


88 


HENRY HUDSON. 


of November, after an absence of little more 
than seven months from Amsterdam, he arrived 
safely At Dartmouth in England. The crew, 
you will remember, was composed partly of 
English, partly of Dutch sailors; and when off 
the coast of England, the English (it is said) 
mutinied, and forced him to put into an English 
harbor.* 

The Dutch historians declare that Hudsor. 
was not allowed to go over to Holland, the 
English king being jealous of their bold mari¬ 
time enterprises. Be this as it may, certain it is, 
that he remembered his duty to his employers. 
He sent them at once the journal and chart of 
his discoveries, pointing them with pride to what 
he called “ the Great River of the Mountains, 
and the next year the Dutch were reaping the 
fruits of his arduous enterprise. 

The journal of this voyageJ would seem to 
cast two stains upon the fair character of Henry 
Hudson : first, that of cruelty toward the Indians, 

* Lambrechtsen. 

f The Indian names for the river were Cahohatatea. 
Mahackaneghtue, and sometimes Shatcmuck. It was early 
called by the Dutch the North River, to distinguish it from 
the Delaware or South River. 

t The journal of this voyage in 1609, written by Robert 
Juet, will be found in Purchas his Pilgrims. 


• HENRY HUDSON. 


89 


and secondly, that of want of principle in caus¬ 
ing the general intoxication on the river. 

As regards the first, it should be borne in mind 
that Hudson had under his command a mutinous 
body of men, and he may have found it impossi¬ 
ble to control their refractory and ungovernable 
tempers. He seems not even to have thought of 
revenging the death of poor Colman, at Sandy 
Hook : the mate was the man who shot the poor 
Indian for the comparatively small crime of 
stealing the pillow and clothing, and the death 
of the nine Indians killed at the head of Man¬ 
hattan Island, may be said to have been caused 
in a war of self-defence. 

In reference to the second, it can only be ac¬ 
counted for, by supposing that Hudson was, like 
his men, suspicious and alarmed, and therefore 
determined to learn the honesty or treachery 
of the Indians by any means whatsoever. 

8 * 


CHAPTER VI. 


Hudson starts on his fourth voyage, having 
command of the ship Discovery , in the service 
once more of the London Company—His aim 
is to find a North-West Passage to India — 
Reaches Iceland, and witnesses an eruption of 
Mount Hecla—Disturbance among his crew — 
Steers westward, encountering great quantities 
of ice—Discovers and explores Hudson’s Bay, 
and resolves to winter there. 

It is said that Hudson made new proposals for 
a farther voyage to the Dutch East India Com¬ 
pany, and that these proposals were declined.* 
His plan was to set sail (with a crew of twenty 
men) from Dartmouth, on the first of March, 
“ spend the month of April and half of May in 
killing whales and other creatures near the Isl¬ 
and of Panar : after that, sail to the north-west 
and stay there till the middle of September, and 
at last return to Holland by the north-east of 
Scotland.” 


* Forster’s Northern Voyages. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


91 


Whether this story be true or false, certain it 
is that he was not long seeking employment. 
Another voyage had given him a greater name, 
and the story of his discoveries roused once more 
the spirit of the London Company. His old 
employers (who had sent him out in 1607 and 
’8) now called him again into their own service. 
They determined to make an effort for a north¬ 
west passage by examining the inlets of the 
American continent—and more especially Davis’ 
Straits, through which it was supposed a channel 
might be found into the “ Great South Sea.” 
Early in the spring of 1610, therefore, the ship 
Discovery, of fifty-five tons, was equipped, manned 
with twenty-three men, and the command given 
to Henry Hudson. 

One of these twenty-three was Robert Juet, 
who had sailed with Hudson before, another, his 
son John Hudson, and another, Henry Green, 
whose history I will briefly relate to you, as he 
is to act a conspicuous part in this voyage. 

Henry Green was a young Englishman, born 
of respectable parents, and had respectable con¬ 
nexions—but by his extravagant and wicked 
habits he had forced them to cast him off, and 
was now almost a beggar. In this condition, 
Hudson fell in with him j and having pity for his 


9 2 


henry Hudson. 


youth, and a desire to reclaim him from his worth¬ 
less ways, he clothed and fed him, hoping to gain 
the young man’s love and gratitude. The thought 
now struck him that he would take Green out 
on this voyage. His name was not entered as 
one of the crew : he was only the companion 
of the master. Yet to rouse his ambition and 
prompt him to that which was good, Hudson 
promised him wages: and to awaken his pride 
the more, encouraged him to hope that he should 
be made upon his return one of the “ Prince’s 
Guards.” Through Hudson’s persuasion, a friend 
went to the mother of Green, and asked for enough 
money to purchase some clothes for the voyage. 
Yet she knew the madness and profligacy of her son 
so well, that she hesitated long before she would 
advance even five pounds, and then it was bestow¬ 
ed on the express condition that it should not be 
given to the young man, but expended for him. 

On the 17th of April, 1610, the Discovery 
dropped down the Thames. It seems that the 
London Company had insisted upon placing 
aboard an experienced seaman by the name of 
Coleburne to make this voyage with Hudson. 
Whether he supposed that this cast a reflection 
upon his own skill, or from some other cause, 
Hudson was displeased with it ; and ere the ship 


HENRY HUDSON. 


93 


left the river, he put this man aboard another 
vessel bound up to London and sent him back. 
It is strange that we do not know his motives for 
this, since he sent by the man a letter to his em¬ 
ployers containing the reasons for his conduct. 

He now kept on his voyage. On the 6th of 
May, he passed the north of Scotland and the 
Orkneys, which he says he found to be “ not sc 
northerly as is commonly set down.” On the 
8th, he saw the Faroe Islands, and on the 11th 
was upon the eastern shores of Iceland. Coast¬ 
ing along its southern shore, he beheld in the dis¬ 
tance Mount Hecla casting forth its flames of fire: 
and after struggling for more than a fortnight 
against head winds and icebergs, at length, on the 
30th, made a harbor in the western part of the 
island. The natives- of this island were poor 
and miserable, but they treated him very kindly. 
He found upon going ashore a hot spring, (Iceland 
abounds in these springs,) so hot that “ it would 
scald a fowl”—yet we are told the men bathed 
in the water freely. Here Hudson began to discov¬ 
er that he unfortunately had about him some dis¬ 
satisfied men. It was rumored that Juet the mate 
had been speaking lightly of the enterprise, dis¬ 
couraging the men, and trying to destroy their 
confidence in Hudson, calling up their fears by 


94 


HENRY HUDSON, 


telling them of the hazards of the voyage: that 
he had even urged two of the men (C to keep their 
muskets charged and swords ready in their cabins, 
for there would be blood shed before the voyage 
ended,” and had talked boldly about turning the 
head of the ship homeward. While the ship lay 
here at anchor, a circumstance occurred, which 
gave Juet the chance of making new mischief. 
The surgeon and Henry Green got into a quarrel, 
and Juet took part in it. The whole story is told 
by Habakkuk Pricket, one of the sailors and an 
eye-witness, in the following words: “ At Ice¬ 
land, the surgeon and he (Henry Green) fell out 
in Dutch, and he beat him ashore in English, 
which set all the company in a rage, so that we 
had much ado to get the surgeon aboard. I 
told the master of it, but he bade me let it alone: 
for, said he, the surgeon had a tongue that would 
wrong the best friend he had. But Robert Juet, 
the master’s mate, would needs burn his finger in 
the embers, and told the carpenter a long tale 
when he was drunk, that our master had brought 
in Green to crack his credit that should displease 
him: which word was carried to the master’s ears, 
who when he understood it, would have gone 
back to Iceland, when he was forty leagues from 
thence, to have sent home his mate Robert Juet 


HENRY HUDSON. 


95 


m a fisherman. But being otherwise persuaded, 
all was well. So Henry Green stood upright 
and very inward with the master, and was a ser¬ 
viceable man every way for manhood: but for 
religion he would say, he was clean paper where¬ 
on he might write what he would.”* 

On the 1st of June, Hudson sailed from Ice¬ 
land. Deceived by a fog-bank, he fancied that 
he saw land in the west, but it was not till the 
4th, that he beheld the coast of Greenland “ rising 
very mountainous, and full of round hills like to 
sugar loaves covered with snow.” The ice 
lay so thick along the shore, that Hudson did 
not attempt to make a landing, but stood imme¬ 
diately for the south of Greenland. In his voy¬ 
age now he met great numbers of whales. Some 
came close alongside, and one passed directly 
under the ship, but fortunately no harm was 
done, for which they were very thankful. Doub¬ 
ling the southern point of Greenland, he passed 
in sight of Desolation Island, near which he saw 
a “ great island or mountain of ice,” and kept 
his course north-west, for the American conti¬ 
nent. As he passed on, across Davis’ Straits, he 
continually met these floating ice mountains, al- 

* It seems from this, that when Hudson left Iceland he was 
ignorant of the extent of Juet’s insolence. 


96 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ways endangering and sometimes obstructing his 
progress. One of these overturned once near 
the ship, and taught him to keep farther from 
them : but while struggling to avoid one, he 
would meet another, and the farther he went they 
seemed to him to grow more“ numerous and ter¬ 
rifying.” Still, by perseverance and skill, he 
managed to reach a bay, (supposed to be near 
the great strait which now bears his name,) when 
a storm overtook him. The ice was now driving 
so rapidly against the ship, that Hudson was 
forced as his only chance for escape, to run her 
into the thickest of it, and there leave her. Some 
of the men were now dismayed and sick, or, as 
the journal says, “ some of our men fell sick : I 
will not say it was of fear, although I saw small 
sign of other grief.” When the storm ceased they 
went to work to extricate themselves. It was 
a sad prospect, for as far as the eye could see, 
the waters were covered with the huge masses 
of floating ice. They stood now for one clear 
sea, and then for another, but were still hemmed 
in by the ice in every direction. After trying to 
make their way through north, north-west, west, 
and south-west, they at last laid the ship’s course 
to the south. Yet the more they labored, the 
worse their situation became, until at last they 


HENRY HUDSON. 


97 


could proceed no farther. Hudson’s heart now 
sickened, for as he cast his eyes again and again 
upon the desolate scene, there seemed no possi¬ 
bility of escape. Yet his courage failed not, al¬ 
though he afterwards confessed to one of the 
men that he feared he should never escape, but 
was doomed to perish there in the ice. His 
crew, however, saw no sign of fear in him, for 
he carried a cheerful countenance, while they 
were dismayed and broken spirited. 

He now brought out his chart, and calling all 
the men around him, shewed them that they had 
passed three hundred miles farther than any 
Englishman had been before, and gave them 
their choice, whether they would proceed or turn 
back. The men could come to no decision: 
some were for proceeding, some for returning. 
One man said that “if he had one hundred 
pounds, he would give four score and ten to be 
at home—while the carpenter, who had some 
courage, said “ that if he had a hundred 
he would not give ten upon any such condition: 
but would think it to be as good money as any 
he ever had, and to bring it as well home by the 
leave of God.” The great majority of them did 
not care where they w T ent, provided they were 
only clear of the ice, and some spoke angry 
9 


98 


HENRY HUDSON. 


words against the master. This was precisely 
what Hudson expected. He knew that he had 
a mutinous set of men, and that they themselves 
scarcely knew what they desired. Yet this was 
no time to resent their words and punish them 
His object was to pacify them. He therefore 
reasoned with them, trying to allay their fears, 
rouse their hopes, and inspire them with courage, 
until at length, they all again set resolutely at work 
to bring the ship from the ice, and save them¬ 
selves. After much labor they succeeded in 
turning her round. They now worked their 
way by little and little, until at length they found 
themselves in a clear sea, and kept on their 
course north-west. 

There is no scene in the life of Hudson shew¬ 
ing greater firmness and presence of mind than 
this. With his little ship hemmed in by moun¬ 
tains of ice, and a murmuring and desperate 
crew on board, he might naturally have exhibit¬ 
ed some symptoms of fear, both as to the dan¬ 
gers without, and the danger within the ship. 
There can be few situations more perilous, yet 
he is calm. His mind rises with the occasion. 
he brings around him these desperate sailors, 
calms their fears, and inspires them with new 
courage. Overcoming these, he now overcomes 
the storm without, and presses on his voyage. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


99 


On the 8th of July, he again saw the land 
bearing south-west, but it was all covered with 
snow, and he gave it the name of Desire Pro- 
voked. Having now entered the straits which 
bear his name, he kept his course west, and 
?pent nearly the whole month of July in passing 
'hrough them. This was a new world around 
hem, and as he passed on, he gave names to the 
>ew bays, capes, and islands, which fell under 
'is observation. The main land he called 
'' Magna Britannia” To some rocky islands 
\ ear which he anchored as a shelter from a 
tform, he gave the name of the “ Isles of God’s 
Mercies ,” and to a high point of land which he 
passed, the name of “ Hold with Hope.” To 
other places he gave the names of Prince Hen¬ 
ry’s Cape, King James’s Cape, and Queen Ann’s 
Cape. They were still occasionally in the neigh • 
borhood of ice, but the men seem now to have 
become familiar with this sort of danger, and 
even from time to time to have amused them¬ 
selves by chasing bears that were seen upon the 
floating pieces. The last point of land which 
he seems to have marked lpon this course, was 
a bold headland upon the northern shore, to 
which he gave the name of Salisbury’s Fore¬ 
land. From this point, he stood south-west, and 


100 


HENRY HUDSON. 


running about fourteen leagues, entered a strait 
about two leagues broad. In honor of two of 
the company that had employed him, he named 
the cape on the south side of the strait, Cape 
Worsenholme, and that on the north, Cape 
Digges. This strait, you will find, was but the 
passage way to the great bay, which now bears 
his name. 

Full of hope, now that the long-sought pas¬ 
sage to the East was clear before him, he sent 
a number of the men on shore at Cape Digges, 
that they might climb the hills, and see the great 
ocean beyond the straits. As the men wander¬ 
ed on the land, which was covered with grass, 
(among which was much sorrel and scurvy 
grass,) they saw herds of deer: at one time as 
many as sixteen in a herd, and abundance of 
fowls flying over their heads. Still pressing to¬ 
ward the hills, which seemed to grow farther as 
they advanced, they met with strange piles of 
stones. These they thought must be the work 
of some civilized people, but on coming near 
and lifting up one of the stones, they found the 
piles were hollow, and filled inside with fowls 
hung by the neck. A thunder storm now came 
on, and prevented their exploring farther. With 
some difficulty they reached the ship, for a fog 


HENRY HUDSON. 


101 


Had risen upon the water, and Hudson found 
it necessary to fire two guns, that they might 
know where he was. They told of what sup¬ 
plies they had found, and when the storm was 
over, tried to persuade the master to remain here 
a day or two, while they went ashore again, and 
provisioned the ship. But Hudson would listen 
to no such request. He could suffer no delay, 
for he felt almost certain that his way was clear 
before him, and he burned to press onward. He 
Weighed anchor immediately, and keeping the 
main land on the left, touched the rocks among 
tlie Sleepers, encountered a storm, and passing 
south-east, soon discovered two points of land 
before him. He now sent some of the men 
ashore again, to notice if they could see the ocean 
beyond. They returned, reporting that the sea 
was open to the south. Pressing immediately 
between these points he entered the sea, and 
continuing his course south, (stopping only once 
to take in ballast and w r ater,) was ere long at the 
southern extremity of it. It proved to be only 
a part of the great inland sea (Hudson’s Bay) 
upon which he was Voyaging ; and disappointed 
that he could proceed no farther in this direction, 
with a sad heart he prepared to retrace his 
course northward. Here he began to hear onca 
9* 


102 


HENRY HUDSON. 


more, the murmurings of his mutinous crew. He 
had borne with their complaints patiently be¬ 
fore, but now he would endure them no longer. 
Robert Juet the mate, and Francis Clement the 
boatswain, were suspected of making the trouble, 
and Juet, like most guilty men, endeavored to 
make a show of innocence by demanding that the 
charges against him should be investigated. A 
court of inquiry was therefore appointed to try 
him. It was proved that before they reached 
Iceland, Juet had tried to dishearten the men 
and shake their confidence in the commander: 
his insolence as regards the quarrel between 
Green and the surgeon, and his wicked advice 
to some of the men to keep their arms loaded by 
them, were also sworn to : and there were wit¬ 
nesses to shew that ever since the ship left Cape 
Digges , he had been endeavoring to plot mis¬ 
chief. Hudson decided, therefore, that he should 
no longer be the mate, and Robert Bylot was 
appointed in his place. The boatswain was 
found guilty of conduct almost as bad, and his 
place was given to William Wilson. Hudson 
seems to have felt sorry that he found these acts 
necessary, for he admonished both Juet and 
Clement kindly, and promised that if they 
would behave well for the future he would not 


HENRY HUDSON. 


103 


only forget past injuries, but be the means of 
doing them good. 

It was now the 10th of September, and Hud¬ 
son, moving north again, spent the whole of this 
and the next month in exploring the great bay, 
still longing for his eastern passage. From time 
to time tempests would strike the ship, and he 
would make a harbor where he could. During 
one storm they were forced to cut their cable, 
and thereby lost their anchor. At another time 
the ship ran upon rocks, and stuck fast for 
twelve hours, but fortunately got off without 
much injury. At length, the end of October was 
at hand; “ the nights long and cold, the land 
covered with snow” wherever it was seen, and 
it was evident that the season for navigation was 
well nigh past. Hudson now ran the ship into 
a small bay, and sent Habakkuk Pricket, one 
of the sailors, and Philip Staffe, the carpenter, 
off in the boat, to search for a proper place 
where they might shelter themselves for the win¬ 
ter. In a little time they found what they 
thought a suitable position, the ship was brought 
there, and hauled aground. It was now the first 
day of November ; and by the tenth they found 
themselves shut up for the season: hard freezing 
weather had set in, and the ship was completely 
fastened in the ice. 


104 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Some have found fault with this attempt of 
the commander to winter in this northern bay. 
It is said “ that Hudson, on finding, instead of the 
India passage, that he was embayed, became 
distracted, and committed many errors, especially 
in resolving to winter in that desolate region.”* 
It is easy to find fault with a man, when w T e do 
not understand the difficulties of his position, 
and especially when he proves in the end unfor¬ 
tunate. He had enough to distract him: but we 
can hardly call him distracted, who bore him¬ 
self again and again so firmly and calmly against 
his mutinous crew, and met so resolutely tempest 
after tempest in that great bay, which the jour¬ 
nal speaks of as “ a labyrinth without end.” 


• Purchas. 


CHAPTER VII 




The dreary prospect of the winter—Disturbances 
among the crew—Unexpected supply of wild 
fowl and fish—Distress from hunger — Hud¬ 
son sails from his winter quarters — Green , 
Juet , and Wilson stir the crew up to mutiny 
—Hudson is seized , bound , and thrown into 
the shallop , with others—the shallop set adrift 
—Fate of the mutineers—The ship arrives in 
Hngland. 

A long and dreary winter was now set in. 
7 vo harsdhips were distinctly before them, the 
• igors of a northern winter, and a scanty supply 
)f provisions; for the ship had been victualled 
}nly for six months. Their only hope, therefore, 
was to take care of what they had, to get what 
they could in the neighborhood, and have patience 
till the spring, when they might reach Cape Dig- 
ges , and then probably obtain supplies. 

Hudson prudently commenced at once putting 
the men on an allowance, and then, to encourage 




106 


HENRY HUDSON. 


them to industry in procuring other provisions, 
offered a reward to every man who should kill a 
44 Beast, Fish, or Fowl.” In about a fortnight, 
one of their number (John Williams, the gunner) 
died :* and in addition to the sorrow of losing a 
companion, another difficulty attended this mis¬ 
fortune. 

It seems it was customary, when a man died at 
sea, after his burial, to bring his clothes to the 
main-mast, and there sell them to the highest 
bidder among the sailors. The poor gunner had, 
among other garments, left an old gray cloth 
gown, which Henry Green desired, and begged 
the commander that he would favor him and al¬ 
low him to have it. Upon his agreeing to pay 
as much as any other man would, Hudson impru¬ 
dently promised it should be his. This dissatis¬ 
fied the crew, for it evidently showed that Green 
was a favorite. 

Finding his winter quarters not so comforta¬ 
ble as they might be, he now ordered the car¬ 
penter to go ashore and build a house, for the 
better accommodation of the crew. The car¬ 
penter refused to obey, saying, that the frost and 

* Hudson is said to have treated this man cruelly, but no 
word or action of his is brought forward to support this 
charge. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


107 


snow were such, that he could not do it, and 
moreover that it was no work of his, for he was 
only the ship carpenter. Hudson now became 
angry, and driving him out of the cabin, followed 
him with abusive words, and even threatened to 
hang him. The carpenter, still insolent, replied, 
“ that he knew what belonged to his place better 
than Hudson, and that he was no house carpen¬ 
ter.” The carpenter, though insolent, it would 
seem, was right enough in one particular : it was 
late to build the house now ; it should have been 
attended to when they were first frozen in, and 
he had then spoken to Hudson about it, but at 
that time he refused to have it done. In this 
quarrel, Henry Green sided with the carpenter, 
and this displeased Hudson the more. The diffi¬ 
culty being ended, the carpenter had time for 
reflection, and thinking that obedience was best, 
not only built the house, (which, however, prov¬ 
ed. of little advantage,) but was ever after one 
of the warmest friends that Hudson had in the 
ship. 

The day after this, the carpenter went ashore 
with his gun, taking Green along with him. 
Green left contrary to orders, and the master was 
again displeased with him. He now took the 
cloth gown of the gunner that had been prom- 


08 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ised to Green, and gave it to Robert Bylot, the 
mate. Upon Green’s return, he was angry, and 
reminded the master of his promise Hudson 
upon this spoke harshly to Green, telling him 
“ that all his friends would not trust him with 
twenty shillings, and therefore why should he 1 
As for his wages he had none, nor should have, 
if he did not please him well.” These words 
were never forgotten by Green, but sank deeply 
in his heart. He seems to have forgotten all 
former kindness in the remembrance of them. 

As the season now advanced, they suffered se¬ 
verely from the cold : most of the men, from time 
to time, having their feet frozen, and being ren¬ 
dered thereby lame. But in the way of provis¬ 
ions, they fared for a while much better than they 
had even expected. For three months, they found 
abundance of white partridges around them, and 
killed of these more than one hundred dozen. 
Other birds too, were sometimes shot. These 
afforded supplies through “the extreme cold 
weather,” and when spring came, they were vis¬ 
ited by other fowl, such as swan, geese, and 
ducks. These, however, were taken with diffi¬ 
culty. Hudson hoped, when they first made 
their appearance, that they came to this region to 
breed, and might be taken easily, but he found 


HENRY HUDSON. 


109 


they went farther north for that purpose. Before 
the ice broke up, these too began to fail, and 
starvation now drove them to sad extremities 
They went climbing over the hills, and wandering 
through the valleys, in search of anything that 
might satisfy hunger. They ate the moss on 
the ground, and every frog that could be found 
It was a great comfort to them when Thomas 
Woodhouse, one of their company, discovered 
in his wanderings a tree bearing certain buds, full 
of “ turpentine substance.” They now, from 
time to time, would gather these, boil them, and 
make a palatable drink. These buds, too, 
answered another purpose. When steeped hot, 
and applied by the surgeon to their aching limbs, 
they gave great relief to the sick.* 

About the time that the ice began to break up, 
they were visited by a savage, (the only one 
they had seen through the winter,) and they were 
greatly cheered by his arrival. Hudson treated 
him with great kindness, made him a present of 
a knife, Icoking-glass, and some buttons, and 
the man made signs that he would return again. 
He was true to his promise this time, for he came 
back before a great while, drawing his sled, load- 

* This tree is supposed by Doctor Belknap to be the “Pop 
ulue Balsamifera.” 


10 


110 


HENRY HUDSON. 


ed with deer and beaver-skins. He was receiv¬ 
ed again very kindly, and when he strangely 
returned the presents he had received, Hudson 
immediately restored them to him again. He 
then traded with him for one of his deer-skins, 
and the savage, as he left them now, made 
u many signs of people to the north and to the 
south,” and promised that after so many sleeps, 
he would come again. Whether (as has been 
said) Hudson’s hard bargain for the deer-skin 
displeased him, or whether some other cause 
actuated him, certain it is that he came no more, 
and now all hopes of obtaining provision through 
him were at an end. 

Fortunately, now the ice was so far broken 
up, that they were enabled to make up a fishing 
party, to try their skill with the net. On the first 
day they were very successful: they took five 
hundred fish. They now began to think their 
sorrows at an end, so far as food was concerned, 
but they were doomed to disappointment, for on 
no day after did they take “ a quarter of that 
number.” • At this time, two> of the men (Hen¬ 
ry Green and William Wilson) were so dissat¬ 
isfied, that they plotted to steal the boat, push off, 
and shift for themselves. But Hudson now called 
for the boat himself, and their plot proved idle 


HENRY HUDSON. 


Ill 


He had perceived the woods on fire at the south 
for some time, and fancied that if he could reach 
them, he might find some of the people and ob¬ 
tain provisions. Accordingly he made ready the 
boat, took in eight or nine days provisions, and 
leaving orders that the crew should take in wood, 
water, and ballast, and have everything in 
readiness by his return, he departed. His voy¬ 
age too, proved profitless — ere long he came 
back disappointed and tired, for though he could 
come near enough to see the people setting the 
woods on fire, he could never reach them.* 

The men had obeyed his orders during his ab¬ 
sence, and were now prepared to depart from 
their cold winter quarters. Before he weighed 
anchor, Hudson, with a sad heart, “ distributed 
among the crew the remnant of provisions,” 

* Hudson is said to have acted foolishly in leaving the men, 
and not prosecuting the fishing. But this is evidently incor¬ 
rect, for he took the boat when they were failing in this effort, 
and went off with the earnest desire of doing good to them 
all. 

Purchas (in his pilgrimage) says , lt at the opening of the 
year there came to the ship’s side abundance of fish of all 
sorts, that they might therewith have fraught themselves for 
their return, if Hudson had not too desperately pursued the 
voyage, neglecting this opportunity of storing themselves 
with fish, which he committed to the care of certain careless, 
dissolute villains, which in his absence conspired against 
iiim—in a few days the fish all forsook them.” 


112 


HENRY HUDSON. 


about a pound of bread to each man, “ and 
knowing their wretched condition, and the un¬ 
certainty of what might befall them, he also gave 
to every man a bill of return, which might be 
showed at home, if it pleased God that they 
came home, and he wept when he gave it to 
them.” 

It was about the middle of June, when they 
hoisted sail. Unfortunately, in three or four 
days, they found themselves surrounded by ice, 
and were forced to cast anchor. Here it was 
discovered, that some of the men had already 
ravenously ate up all their bread; and now some 
cheese was found, and divided among them, 
“ about three pounds and a half to each person.” 
Some of the more prudent part of the crew re¬ 
monstrated against this, saying, “ that if all the 
cheese was given out, some of the men would de¬ 
vour their share at once, as they had their bread,” 
and they, therefore, advised that a part should be 
kept back. But as some of the cheese was bad, 
Hudson determined to make an equal division 
of all at once, and thereby prevent, as he hoped, 
all complaints. 

They were now detained at their anchorage 
amid the ice for nearly a week, and it was dur¬ 
ing this time that signs of open mutiny began to 


I1ENRY HUDSON. 


113 


appear among the crew. Hudson, it seems, said 
to one of the men, (Nicholas Simmes,) that there 
would be a breaking up of chests, and a search 
for bread, and told him if he had any to bring 
it to him. The man obeyed, and immediately 
brought forward a bag, containing thirty cakes. 
Others of the crew now became greatly exasper¬ 
ated, and at once commenced their plot for the 
destruction of their commander. 

Green and Wilson now went at midnight to 
Pricket, who was lame in his berth, and opened 
the plan. This Pricket had been a servant of 
Sir Dudley Digges,(one of the company who had 
fitted out the ship,) and the mutineers hoped to 
secure him as a friend, that he might intercede 
for pardon in their behalf with his old master 
when they should reach England. These men 
complained to Pricket, that there was only four¬ 
teen days provision in the ship, that the master 
was irresolute, not knowing what to do, that 
they had eaten nothing for three days, and 
“ therefore, were determined either to mend or 
end, and what they had begun they would go 
through with it, or die.” Declaring that they be¬ 
lieved their only hope was in taking command 
of the ship themselves, they expressed themselves 
fully resolved to do so at all hazards. Their 
10 * 


114 


HENRY HUDSON. 


plan was, to take the master and all the sick, 
place them in the shallop, set it adrift, and then 
shift for themselves. 

In vain did Pricket plead with them of the 
blackness of this intended crime. He reminded 
them also, of their wives, their children, and their 
country, from which they would cut themselves 
off for ever by the deed, but all to no purpose ; 
they were fully bent upon it. Green told him 
“ to hold his peace, for he knew the worst, which 
was, to be hanged when he came home, and 
therefore, of the two, he would rather be hanged 
at home than starved abroad.” He then com¬ 
menced cursing, and threatened to have Pricket 
put in the shallop with the rest. Finding his 
efforts useless, Pricket now begged that they 
would delay the crime, but here again he was 
unsuccessful, they declaring that, if they waited, 
the plot would be discovered, and sorrow would 
fall upon themselves. He begged for a delay 
of three days, of two days, of even twelve 
hours, but all without effect. He now upbraided 
them, telling them that it was not their own 
safety they sought, but blood, and that they were 
actuated by feelings of revenge. Upon thi-s, 
Green seized a Bible before him, and swore 
“ he would do harm to no man, and what he did 


HENRY HUDSON. 


115 


was for the good of the voyage, and nothing 
else.” Wilson then took the same oath, after¬ 
wards Juet, Thomas, Perce, Moter, and Bennet 
came in and swore to the same purpose. The 
precise words of their oath were as follows : 
“ You shall swear truth to God, your Prince, and 
Country ; you shall do nothing but to the glory 
of God, and the good of the action in hand, and 
harm to no man.” Pricket seems to have brought 
them to this positive oath, as the only means left 
for restraining them. How heartless they prov¬ 
ed, and how utterly they forgot the oath, we 
shall presently see. 

Their plan was now arranged, to be executed 
at day-light, and in the mean time, the wretch 
Green hung around the master with pretended 
love. Besides Hudson and the sick, they had 
resolved to put into the shallop the carpenter 
and Henry King. They pretended to be dissat¬ 
isfied wfith these, because of some injustice 
done about the provisions; but the true cause 
of their dislike of the carpenter was, that Hud¬ 
son loved him, and after leaving their winter 
quarters, had made him the mate in place of 
Robert Bylot. Pricket, however, urged that 
they could not do without the carpenter, and 
they consented that he should remain. w It hap- 


116 


HENRY HUDSON. 


pened that King and the carpenter slept upon 
deck that night, and at day-break, King was ob¬ 
served to go down “ into the hold,” as 'Bennet, 
the cook, was going down for water. Some of 
the mutineers now ran and closed down the 
hatches on him, while others held the carpenter 
in a talk, so that he did not notice what was 
going on. Hudson now came up from his cabin, 
and was immediately seized by Thomas and 
Bennet, who held him fast, while Wilson bound 
his arms behind him. “ He asked them what 
they meant? they told him he should know 
when he was in the shallop.” In the mean 
time, Juet went into the hold to attack King. 
Here there was a sharp conflict, for King had 
got a sword, and not only kept him at bay, but 
would have killed him, had not others who heard 
the noise ran down to Juet’s assistance. Hud¬ 
son now called to the carpenter, telling him that 
he was bound, but he could give him no help. 
Lodlo and Bute reproached their shipmates, 
telling them “ their knavery would show itself.” 
The boat was now hastily hauled alongside, and 
the sick and lame were called up from their 
berths, to get into the shallop. Hudson now 
called to Pricket to come to the hatch-way to 
speak with him. Pricket crawled up, and on 


HENRY HUDSON. 


117 


his knees “ besought them, for the love of God, 
to remember themselves, and do as they would 
be done unto.” Their only answer was, to or¬ 
der him back to his berth, and they would not 
allow him one word with the commander. He 
went back, Hudson still calling to him at “ the 
horn which gave light into his cabin, and telling 
him that Juet would overthrow them all.” 
“ Nay,” replied Pricket, “ it is that villain, 
Henry Green.” 

Hudson, thus bound, w r as put into the shal¬ 
lop, and his son John thrown in alongside of 
him. Then came the sick and the lame, Arnold 
Lodlo, Sidrack Faner, Thomas Wydhouse, Adam 
Moore, Henry King, and Michael Bute. Two 
others were to have been put in—Francis Clem¬ 
ents, and the cooper; but John Thomas was a 
friend to Clements, and Bennet to the cooper, and 
while Henry Green sw r ore they should go, they 
swore they should not, and at last they were al¬ 
lowed to remain. The carpenter was now free, 
and they desired him to remain, but he declared 
that he would not desert his commander, or stay 
with such villains. He asked for his chest of 
tools, and they placed it in the shallop. Before 
leaving, he went below to talk with Pricket, who 
begged him to remain and use his influence to 


118 


HENRY HUDSON. 


have the others taken back. But the carpenter 
refused, saying, that they would all be in the 
ship again, for there was no one on board who 
knew enough to carry her . home. He thought 
the boat would be kept in tow only for a time; 
but begged Pricket, if they should be parted, 
that if it was his lot first to reach Cape Digges, 
he would leave some token there, by which he 
might know it. Promising in return that he 
would do the same thing, if he had the good for¬ 
tune to be first there, “ with tears in their eyes,” 
they parted. The carpenter, now taking a gun, 
some powder and shot, an iron pot, a small quan¬ 
tity of meal, and some other provisions, leaped 
into the shallop.* The anchor was now weigh¬ 
ed, the sails hoisted, and with a fair wind 
they stood eastward, dragging the shallop at the 

* 11 But see what sincerity can do in the most desperate trials. 
Philip Staffe, an Ipswich man, who, according to his name, had 
been a principal staffe and stay to the weaker and more un¬ 
settled courage of his companions in the whole action, light¬ 
ening and enlightening their drooping, darkened spirits, with 
sparks from his own resolution ; their best purveyor with his 
piece on shore, and both a skilful carpenter and lusty mari¬ 
ner onboard, when he could by no persuasions, seasoned with 
tears, divert them from their devilish designs, notwithstanding 
they entreated him to stay with them, yet chose rather to 
commit himself to God’s mercy in the forlorn shallop, than 
with such villains to accept of likelier hopes .”—Purchas his 
Pilgrims. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


119 


stern. When they had nearly cleared the ice, 
they cut the rope, and the boat was adrift. 

Now they hoisted their topsails, and stood 
away into a clear sea. In a little time they low¬ 
ered their topsails, righted helm, and commenced 
the work of ransacking the ship. Chests and 
lockers were broken open, and every place was 
pillaged. In the cabin they found some biscuit 
and a but of beer; and a few pieces of pork, 
some meal, and a small quantity of peas were 
found in the hold. While they were busy at 
this work, some one cried out, that the shallop 
was in sight. Pricket now besought them to 
take their poor comrades on board again. But 
this they refused to do. Although they had now 
obtained all the provisions to themselves, and 
might at least have taken the boat in tow as far 
as Cape Digges, where Hudson and his compan¬ 
ions might have found some relief, and perhaps 
once more reached Europe—they positively re¬ 
fused to aid them in any way. The truth is, 
these mutineers did not desire that they should 
live : so they again hoisted sail, and stood away 
from the boat “ as from an enemy.” 

A more outrageous and heartless crime than 
this, committed by the mutineers, can hardly be 
thought of. It wap not only murder, but murder 


120 


HENRY HUDSON. 


under the very worst circumstances. Green, the 
ringleader in it, had been taken by Hudson, 
when he was a castaway from his own mother, 
and treated as his own son. He repaid the 
love of his benefactor, by this act of base in¬ 
gratitude ; and his conduct serves to show how 
early profligacy and sin will deaden the feelings 
of the heart, and steel it against all that is good. 
Juet, another conspirator, had sailed with the 
commander on former voyages, and shared all 
his glories and his perils. Wilson, another of 
the set, had been selected by Hudson as a good 
man, and appointed the boatswain. This was 
the man who, more than any other, refused to 
hearken to the entreaty of Pricket, that the men 
might be taken aboard — and these were the 
three principal men who had plotted this mis¬ 
chief. 

To make the crime worse, with cold-blooded 
cruelty, they took the sick and the lame, and 
gave these suffering men to the rough winds and 
cold waters of the Northern Sea, with scarcely 
a morsel to subsist upon. It would have been 
mercy, indeed, to have killed them all at once, 
but their cruelty preferred leaving them to a long, 
lingering, and horrible death. And this horrible 
death, even the young son of Hudson was to 


HENRY HUDSON. 


121 


share, though his tender years might have pleaded 
in his behalf. 

The mutineers now kept on their way under 
Henry Green, who was appointed their com¬ 
mander. Their aim was to reach Cape Digges, 
hut it was more than a month before this was 
accomplished. Green was utterly ignorant and 
unfit to command ; Robert Juet thought he was 
wiser, and offered his counsels: but the truth 
is, Robert Bylot was the most serviceable man 
among them, and but for him, they would probably 
have never reached the Capes at any time. Du¬ 
ring this month, the ship seems to have been 
tossed about at the mercy of the winds, and their 
lives were more than once endangered. At one 
time they were for a fortnight embayed with ice, 
which stretched for miles around them, and feared 
they should never escape. Thrice did the ship 
run upon rocks, and on one occasion remained 
so for hours, until the flood tide floated her off. 
Provisions, too, were scanty; but they were able 
to make landings sometimes, and catch a few 
fish, shoot a few fowl, and gather the cockle- 
grass which spread itsejf along the shores. 
Guilt will make a coward of any man, and so 
these men were all cowards: while they feared 
the perils which surrounded them, they also 
11 


122 


HENRY HUDSON. 


feared even the success of reaching England. 
Cursing and swearing, they were continually 
declaring that England was “ no safe place for 
themand Green swore that the ship should 
keep the sea until he had the king’s hand and 
seal for his pardon. 

At length, to their great comfort, they came 
in sight of the Capes, where they hoped for sup¬ 
plies. The boat was immediately sent ashore to 
obtain provisions. As it approached, it was met 
by seven canoes filled with the natives. The 
savages were at first alarmed, and drew back; 
but presently they became familiar, and hostages 
were exchanged between the parties. After¬ 
wards they all went ashore, and met in the tents 
of the natives. There was great joy among 
them. The savages danced, leaped, stroked 
their breasts, and offered them many things, so 
that the men returned to the ship greatly pleased, 
thinking they had found a kind and hospitable 
people. Some few of the mutineers were sus¬ 
picious of these savages; but most of them, with 
Henry Green at their head, had all confidence 
in their kindness. 

Accordingly, the next day, Green ordered 
the boat to be made ready, and with Wilson, 
Thomas, Perse, Moter, and Pricket, started for 


HENRY HUDSON. 


123 


the shore : the boat was laden with such articles 
as they thought of trafficking, and Pricket, being 
lame, was to remain in the boat, and guard the 
articles while the others landed. Green foolishly 
went unarmed, though some of his companions 
advised him to the contrary. As they came 
near, they saw the savages upon the hills, dancing 
and leaping. The boat touched and was fast¬ 
ened ; and while Green, Wilson, and Thomas 
met the savages on the beach, who came down 
displaying their articles of traffic, Perse and 
Moter went up on the hills to pick sorrel; Prick¬ 
et, in the mean time, remained in the stern of 
the boat. While matters were going on thus, 
one of the savages stepped into the boat; but 
Pricket, being suspicious, ordered him out. In 
the mean time, another stole behind Pricket, un¬ 
observed, and stabbed him twice before he could 
reach his own dagger and despatch him. Now 
there was a general conflict on shore. Green, 
Perse, Wilson, and Thomas came tumbling into 
the boat, badly wounded. Moter, seeing the 
fight from the hill, leaped from the rocks, plunged 
into the sea, and held fast to the stern; Perse 
helped him in, seized a hatchet, laid one of the 
savages dead, and pushed off the boat. They 
were followed by clouds of arrows: Green was 


124 


HENRY HUDSON. 


instantly killed, and Perse and Pricket again 
wounded ; still, Perse with Moter rowed rapidly 
towards the ship, until Perse fainted, and Moter 
was left to manage the boat alone. Fortunately, 
the savages did not follow them with their boats. 
Moter now made signals to the ship, (for he 
could not reach her,) and she came to his relief. 
The body of Green was thrown into the sea; 
Wilson and Thomas died the same day, cursing 
and raving in the most awful manner ; and Perse 
died two days afterward. 

The wretched crew still needed supplies, and 
it was necessary, even at the peril of their lives, 
to obtain them. A party was therefore formed, 
who went along the shore and managed to kill 
a quantity of fowl; and now they hoisted sail 
again, glad enough to depart from this inhos¬ 
pitable region. By the time they reached the 
inlet of Hudson’s Straits, their provisions again 
ran so low that they were obliged to live on 
short allowances, and devour even the skins of 
the fowls. Now they pressed toward the Deso¬ 
lations, as well as they could. Robert Juet urged 
them to steer for Newfoundland, stating that 
there they would find relief from some of their 
countrymen, or, if they failed in that, would at 
least discover some supplies left behind by them. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


155 


Accordingly they altered their course ; hut, for¬ 
tunately for them, as it turned out, the wind 
changed, and they now determined to shape 
their course for Ireland. It is hardly possible to 
give any idea of the sufferings of these miserable 
men, as they were tossed about upon the ocean. 
Ignorant, discontented, and sad, they lived on, 
with their sorrows increasing from day to day. 
All their meat being gone, they were forced to 
take salt broth for dinner, and half a fowl for 
supper; then, as provisions became more scant)*, 
thev took the bones of the fowls, fried them in 
tallow, and ate them gladly. Even the vinegar 
and candles were now divided among them — 
about a pound of candles to each man. Yet 
they were far from Ireland. Exhausted and 
weakened, they became unable to stand at the 
helm, but sat and steered the ship. Juet died in 
agony, of starvation, and the rest were now 
in despair: they had lost all hope of reaching 
Ireland ; they cared not which way the vessel 
went. The poor wretches “ would sit and see 
the foresail or mainsail fly up to the tops, the 
sheets being either flown or broken, and would not 
help it themselves, nor call to others for help.” 
At length it pleased God to bring them in sight 
of land. They raised a joyful cry, and now 
11 * 


126 


HENRY HUDSON. 


strived to reach the coast. This they could not 
do, but now, by God’s mercy, a still more joyful 
cry was heard — “A sail! a sail!” A fishing 
Dark on the coast had'marked their distress, came 
off to them, and took them safely into a harbor 
in Ireland. Their wants were now supplied, 
and through the kindness of the commander of 
the bark, and the sympathy of a stranger, they 
were enabled to reach Plymouth; thence they 
proceeded to Gravesend, and ere long were in 
London. 

Great was the astonishment of Sir Thomas 
Smith (one of the company who had fitted out 
this ship) when these men appeared before him. 
He had not heard of the ship for nearly eighteen 
months, and supposed, of course, that she was 
lost. Great, too, was his sorrow and the sor¬ 
row of all England, when the sad story of their 
sufferings and sins was made known ; for Hud¬ 
son had ever reflected honor upon his country, 
and his countrymen loved him and grieved over 
him. 

Such was their love, that the London Com¬ 
pany was not satisfied till it had made an effort 
to save him. The next year, hoping that they 
might learn something of the fate of Hudson, 
and possibly relieve him, two ships (the Disco - 


HENRY HUDSON. 


127 


very, in which Hudson had last sailed, and the 
Resolution ) were sent out, under the command 
of Captain Thomas Button. Pricket was taken 
along as a sort of guide; and as the flood tide 
near Cape Digges was represented by him as 
coming from the west, a faint hope was enter¬ 
tained that they might also find the Northwest 
passage. 

The ships returned the next year, having 
failed in both objects. No tidings of Henry 
Hudson were ever more received. Whether he 
persevered until he reached Cape Digges, and 
was there murdered by the savages; whether he 
perished in the ice, or died by famine, or * was 
swallowed by the waves, no man can tell. All 
that is known is, that Hudson and his compan¬ 
ions were never more heard of. 

Whatever was his fate, however, he has left 
behind him a bright and honorable name. His 
reputation is this; that with matchless fortitude 
he lived amid the perils of the seas, still giving 
names to strange and unknown regions. In 
England they mourned for him, for he was their 
countryman, and they felt his loss. Yet, though 
he was no native of our land, his discoveries 
make him ours. His daring adventures were 
performed in this New World where we dwell- 


128 


HENRY HUDSON. 


and therefore our country has not been un¬ 
mindful of perpetuating his memory. She has 
seized his name as something which belongs to 
her; written it upon one of her fairest streams; 
and graven it for ever upon the palisades and 
the hills of the Hudson. His best monument is 
indeed in this western world ; for here it is, upon 
the continent of North America, that a bay, a 
strait, a city, and a river, all bear the name of 
Hudson.* 

* The story of this last voyage is gathered from Hudson’s 
own journal, the journal of Habakkuk Pricket, and a note 
discovered in the desk of Thomas Wydhouse, all of which 
may be seen in “ Purchas his Pilgrims.” 

The names of the crew, as far as they can be gathered, 
were as follows: Henry Hudson, John Hudson, Robert Juet, 
Henry Green, Habakkuk Pricket, Robert Bylot, William Wil. 
son, John Thomas, Bennet the cook, Andrew Moter, Michael 
Perse, Philip StafFe, Arnold Lodlo, Francis Clements, Michael 
Bute, Thomas Wydhouse, Sidrack Faner, Adrian Moore, John 
King, Nicholas Simmes John Williams, Matthews and the 
cooper,—23. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Claim of John and Sebastian Cabot , as having 
seen what is now New York in 1497 $ together 
with the claim of John de Verrazzano , to having 
entered New York Harbor in 1524. 

We have now followed Henry Hudson in his 
last adventure. The whole of his career is in¬ 
teresting, but the story of his third voyage par¬ 
ticularly so to the citizens of the State of New 
York—as it sets him forth as the discoverer of 
this portion of the New World; the first Euro¬ 
pean who trod upon our own soil. I am anxious, 
however, to do him no more than justice, and 
while I believe that he was thus the discoverer 
of what is now New York, it is right that I 
should tell you, that some have supposed that 
the land which we tread was possibly seen, 
and the harbor 0 / New York probably entered, 
before the days of Henry Hudson. When I 
shall have told you by whom it is thought this 
was done, then I shall have fairly finished. 


130 


HENRY HUDSON. 


The names of John and Sebastian Cabot are, 
I dare say, well known to many of you. If not, 
you will remember now that they were experien¬ 
ced navigators—natives of Venice, who lived in 
England. In the year 1497, these men, under the 
patronage of King Henry the Seventh, sailed 
from England in search of a North-West passage 
to India. It is said, they passed along the coast of 
North America, from the 67th to the 26th degree 
of north latitude. In this run, they must have 
passed what is now known as the State of New 
York, and it is supposed that they must have seen 
the land. But if they did, certain it is, that they 
did nothing more than see it, and even this is un¬ 
certain. It is very remarkable, that these men 
seem not even to have noticed the coasts along 
which they passed. At least, upon their return to 
England, they had no satisfactory knowledge to 
give farther than this, that there w T as a western 
continent. Intent, probably, upon the main ob¬ 
ject of their voyage, ( a passage to the East,) and 
not finding it, they lost sight of other things. But 
at best, it is only claimed that they saw the land ; it 
is not pretended that they landed on any part of it. 

A stronger claim is set up in behalf of a Flor¬ 
entine, John de Verrazzano,who was engaged in 
the service of Francis First, king of France. It 


HENRY HUDSON. 


131 


seems that Verrazzano had been trusted by his 
master, for some time, with the command of four 
ships, to cruise against the Spaniards. These 
ships being at one time overtaken by a storm 
and separated, Verrazzano resolved now to keep 
on his way alone, and undertake a voyage in 
search of new regions. The world was then fill¬ 
ed with the stories of maritime adventures and 
new discoveries, and he seems to have thought 
an effort this way more pleasant, and perhaps 
more profitable, than chasing the Spaniards. It 
was on the 7th day of January, in the year 1524, 
that with these feelings, he set sail from the des¬ 
olate rocks to the east of Madeira, (known by 
the English as “ the Deserters,”) and kept his 
course westerly. Nearly two months passed 
away, before he came near the American coast. 
He then reached it in the latitude of 34 degrees 
north, and was of course off the coast of North 
Carolina. He now sailed south until he came 
(it is said) to the region of Palm-trees * From 
this point he turned and sailed north, as far as 
about the latitude of 41 degrees north, where he 

* Rev. Dr. Miller, in his lecture before the New York Histor¬ 
ical Society in 1809, thinks this must have been as far as the 
southern part of the State of Georgia, as the Palm-tree is 
not found north of that 


132 


HENRY HUDSON. 


entered a spacious harbor. Some suppose that 
this was the harbor of New York. They reach 
this conclusion, as they think, by noticing Ver- 
razzano’s descriptiont)f the harbor which he en¬ 
tered, together with some other circumstances. 
His description is in the following words : “ This 
land is situated in the parallel of Rome, in for¬ 
ty-one degrees and two terces; but somewhat 
more cold by accidental causes. The mouth of 
the haven lieth open to the south, half a league 
broad, and being entered within it, between the 
east and the north, it stretcheth twelve leagues, 
where it weareth broader and broader, and 
maketh a gulf about twenty leagues in compass, 
wherein are five small islands, very fruitful and 
pleasant, full of high and broad trees, among 
the which islands, any great navy may ride safe, 
without any fear of tempest or other danger.”* 

This has been thought a tolerably fair descrip¬ 
tion of New York harbor by some; while one 
celebrated historianf has concluded that it “ must 
be that of New York.” Others again have fan¬ 
cied, that it agreed better with the harbor of 

* Verrazzano’s letter to Francis Frst, in Hakluyt’s Collection 
of Voyages. The letter will be given entire, at the close of 
this volume. 

t Dr. Belknap. 


HENRY HUDSON. 


133 


Newpon, in Rhode Island. I believe, however, 
that by looking closely to the description, it will 
be found by most people, difficult to apply it to 
either of those harbors.* 

Verrazzano remained in this harbor about fif¬ 
teen days. He with many of his men was 
frequently on shore, trading with the natives, and 
he describes both the country and natives fully. 
Here again, his descriptions of the persons, dress, 
and customs of the savages, are supposed to bring 
before us the same people that were seen nearly 
a century afterward by Hudson. It must be 
confessed that he had time for observation, and 
while his descriptions of the natives may be com¬ 
plete, it is well known that they will apply to 
the savages on other parts of the American con¬ 
tinent, as well as to those found upon the soil of 
what is now the State of New York. All that 
can therefore be fairly claimed for Verrazzanc 
is the possibility, perhaps probability, of his hav¬ 
ing been in New York harbor. 

Verrazzano left this harbor (whatever harbor 
it was) on the fifth of May, and keeping a north¬ 
easterly course, was ere long as high as the 56th 
degree of north latitude—and probably some- 

* This is the opinion of Rev. Dr. Miller 

12 


134 


HENRY HUDSON. 


where off the coast of Labrador From this 
point he sailed directly toward France, which he 
reached in the month of July. A few days after 
his arrival at the port of Dieppe, he wrote his 
letter to the French King, giving the story of his 
voyage. The story, it seems, caused no excite¬ 
ment at home, nor did it serve as a guide to any 
future navigator. Nearly a century passed 
away before we hear anything farther of this 
part of the American continent, and then we hear 
of it through the voyage and discovery of Hen¬ 
ry Hudson. Ignorant of the discovery of this 
portion of the new world by any preceding nav¬ 
igator, he sailed from England, and has left 
among us the certain memorial of his adven¬ 
tures.* 

It may prove uninteresting to you now, but 


* It is stated by Charlevoix , that Verrazzano, a short time 
after his arrival in France, fitted out another expedition, with 
the design of establishing a colony in America ; and that all 
that is known of this enterprise is, that having embarked, 
he was never seen more, and that it never has been ascertained 
what became of him. 

It is stated, however, by Ramusio , that when Verrazzano 
landed, he and the people who went ashore with him 
were cut to pieces and devoured by the savages, in the sight 
of the rest of the crew, who had remained on.board the ship, 
and were unable to help them. This last story is believed 
both by Dr. Forster and Dr. Belknap. 


HENKY HUDSON. 


135 


possibly interesting to older readers, and to your¬ 
selves hereafter—and I therefore give, in an ap¬ 
pendix, the entire letter of John de Verrazzano 
to the King of France, that every one may judge 
fairly for himself, who was the discoverer of what 
is now the State of New York. The style and 
spelling of the letter are quaint and old fashioned, 
but I prefer publishing it precisely as it is written. 

























> 



















































































APPENDIX. 


TO THE MOST CHRISTIAN KING OF FRANCE, 
FRANCIS THE FIRST. 

THE RELATION OF JOHN DE YERRAZZANO, A FLOREN¬ 
TINE, OF THE LAND BY HIM DISCOUERED IN THE 
NAME OF HIS MAIESTIE. WRITTEN IN DIEPE, THE 
EIGHT OF JULY, 1524.* 

I wrote not to your Maiesty, most Christian 
King, since the time we suffered the Tempest in 
the North partes, of the successe of the foure 
shippes, which your Maiestie sent forth to dis- 
couer new lands by the Ocean, thinking your 
Maiestie had bene already duely enformed 
thereof. Now by these presents I will give your 
Maiestie to understand, how by the violence of 
the Windes we were forced with the two shippes, 
the Norman and the Dolphin, (in such euill case 
as they were,) to land in Britaine. Where after 


♦Taken from Hakluyt’s Voyages. 
12 * 



138 


APPENDIX. 


wee had rep ay red them in all poynts as was 
needefull. and armed them very well, we took 
our course along by the coast of Spaine, which 
your Maiestie shall • understand by the profite 
that we receiued thereby. Afterwards with the 
Dolphin alone we determined to make discouerie 
of new Countries, to prosecute the Nauigation 
we had already begun, which I purpose at this 
present to recount unto your Maiestie, to make 
manifest the whole proceeding of the matter. 

The 17 of January, the yeere 1524, by the 
Grace of God, we departed from the dishabited 
rocke by the isle of Madeira, apperteining to the 
King of Portugal, with 50 men, with victuals, 
weapons, and other ship-munition very well pro- 
uided and furnished for eight months ; and sail* 
ing Westward with a faire Easterly winde, in 
25 dayes we ran 500 leagues, and the 20 of 
Februarie, we were ouertaken with as sharpe 
and terrible a tempest as euer any saylers suf¬ 
fered, whereof with the diuine helpe and merci- 
full assistance of Almighty God, and the good- 
nesse of our shippe, accompanied with the good 
happe of her fortunate name, we were deliuered, 
and with a prosperous winde followed our course 
West and by North. And in other 25 dayes 
we made aboue 400 leagues more, where we 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 139 

discouered a new land, neuer before seene of any 
man either ancient or moderne, and at the first 
sight it seemed somewhat low, but being within 
a quarter of a league of it, we perceiued by the 
great fires that we saw by the sea-coast, that it 
was inhabited; and saw that the lande stretched 
to the southwards. In seeking some conuenient 
harborough, wherein to anchor and 4 to have 
knowledge of the place, we sayled fiftie leagues 
in vaine, and seeing the lande to runne still to 
the southwards, we resolved to returne backe 
againe towards the north, where wee found our 
selves troubled with the like difficultie. At 
length, being in despaire to find any porte, wee 
cast anchor upon the coast and sent our boate 
to shore, where we saw great store of people 
which came to the seaside; and seeing us ap- 
proch, they fled away, and sometimes would 
stand still and looke backe, beholding us with 
great admiration; but,afterwards,being animated 
and assured with signes that we made them, 
some of them came hard to the seaside, seeming 
to reioyce very much at the sight of us, and 
marvelling greatly at our apparel, shape and 
whitenesse, shewed us by sundry signes, where 
we might most commodiously come aland with 
our boate, offering us also of their victuals to 


140 


APPENDIX. 


eat. Now I will briefly declare to your Maies- 
tie their life and maners, as fairs as we could 
have notice thereof: These people goe alto¬ 
gether naked, except only that they couer their 
loines with certain skins of beastes, like unto 
marterns, which they fasten unto a narrow gir¬ 
dle made of grasse very artificially wrought, 
hanged about with tayles of divers other beastes, 
which, round about their bodies, hang dangling 
down to their knees. Some of them weare gar¬ 
lands of byrdes feathers. The people are of 
colour russet, and not much unlike the Saracens; 
their hayre blacke, thicke, and not very long, 
which they tye together in a knot behind, and 
weare it like a little taile. They are well fea¬ 
tured in their limbes, of meane stature, and com¬ 
monly somewhat bigger than wee, broad breast¬ 
ed, strong armed, their legs and other parts of 
their bodies well fashioned, and they are dis¬ 
figured in nothing, sauing that they haue some¬ 
what broade visages, and yet not ail of them, 
for we saw many of them wel favoured, hauing 
blacke and great eyes, with a cheerefull and 
steady looke, not strong of body, yet sharpe wit- 
ted, nimble and exceeding great runners, as farre 
as we could learne by experience, and in those 
two last qualities they are like to the people of 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 141 

the east partes of the world, and especially to 
them of the uttermost parts of China. We 
could not learne of this people their manner of 
liuing, nor their particular customs, by reason of 
the short abode we made on the shore, our com¬ 
pany being but small, and our ship ryding farre 
off in the sea. And not farre from these we 
found another people, whose liuing wee think 
to be like unto theirs (as hereafter I will declare 
unto your Maiestie) shewing at this present the 
situation and nature of the foresayd land. The 
shoare is all couered with small sand, and so 
ascendeth upwards for the space of 15 foote, 
rising in form of little hils, about 50 paces 
broad. And sayling forwards, we found cer- 
taine small rivers and armes of the sea, that fall 
downe by certaine creeks, washing the shoare on 
both sides as the coast lyeth. And beyond this 
we saw the open country rising in height above 
the sandy shoare, with many faire fields and 
plaines, full of mightie great woods, some very 
thicke, and some thinne, replenished with diuers 
sorts of trees as pleasant and delectable to be¬ 
hold, as is possible to imagine. And your Ma¬ 
iestie may not thinke that these are like the 
woods of Hercynia or the wilde deserts of Tar¬ 
tary, and the northerne coasts, full of fruitlesse 


142 


APPENDIX. 


trees; but they are full of palme trees, bay 
trees, and high cypresse trees, and many other 
sorts of trees unknowen in Europe, which yeeld 
most sweete sauours farre from the shoare, the 
propertie whereof we could not learn for the 
cause aforesaid, and not for any difficulty to passe 
through the woods, seeing they are not so thicke 
but that a man may passe through them, neither 
doe we thinke that they partaking of the east 
world round about them, are altogether voyd of 
drugs or spicery, and other riches of golde, see¬ 
ing the colour of the land doth so much argue 
it. And the laud is full of many beastes, as 
stags, deere and hares, and likewise of lakes and 
pooles of fresh water, with great plentie of 
fowles, convenient for all kinde of pleasant 
game. This land is in latitude 34 degrees, with 
good and wholesome ayre, temperate, betweene 
hot and colde; no vehement windes doe blowe 
in those regions, and those that doe commonly 
.reigne in those coasts, are the north west and 
west windes in the summer season, (in the be¬ 
ginning whereof we were there) the skie cleere 
and faire with very little raine; and if at any 
time the ayre be cloudie and misti.e with the 
southerne winde, immediately it is dissolued and 
wareth cleere and fayre againe. The sea is 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 143 

calme, not boysterous, the waues gentle, and 
although all the shoare be somewhat sholde and 
without harborough, yet it is not dangerous to 
the saylers, being free from rocks and deepe, so 
that within 4 or 5 foote of the shoare there is 20 
foote deepe of water without ebbe or flood, the 
depth still increasing in such uniform proportion. 
There is very good ryding at sea, for any ship 
being shaken in a tempest, can neuer perish there 
by breaking of her cables, which we have 
proved by experience. For in the beginning of 
March (as it is usual in all regions) being in the 
sea oppressed with northerne windes, and ryding 
there, we found our anchor broken before the 
earth fayled or moved at all. We departed from 
this place, still running along the coast, which 
we found to trend toward the east, and w T e saw 
every where very great fires, by reason of the 
multitude of the inhabitants. While we rode 
on that coast, partly because it had no harbo¬ 
rough, and for that we wanted water, we sent 
our boat ashoare with 25 men ; where, by rea¬ 
son of great and continual waues that beat 
against the shoare, being an open coast, without 
succour, none of our men could possibly goe 
ashoare without loosing our boate. We saw 
there many people which came unto the shoare, 


144 


APPENDIX. 


making diuers signes of friendship, and shewing 
that they were content we should come aland, 
and by trial we found them to be very corteous 
and gentle, as your Maiestie shall understand by 
the successe. To the intent we might send them 
of our things, which the Indians commonly de¬ 
sire and esteeme, as sheetes of paper, glasses, 
bels, and such like trifles, we sent a young man 
one of our mariners ashoare, who swimming 
towards them, Sand being within 3 or 4 yards of 
the shoare, not trusting them, cast the things 
upon the shoare; but seeking afterwards to re- 
turne, he was with such violence of the waues 
beaten upon the shoare, that he was so bruised 
that he lay there almost dead; which the In¬ 
dians perceiuing, ranne to catch him, and draw¬ 
ing him out, they caried him a litle way off 
from the sea. The young man perceiuing they 
caried him, being at the first dismaied, began 
then greatly to feare, and cried out piteously; 
likewise did the Indians which did accompany 
him, going about to cheere him and to giue him 
courage, and then setting him on the ground at 
the foote of a litle hil against the sunne, they 
began to behold him with great admiration, 
marueiling at the whitenesse of his flesh; and 
putting off his clothes, they made him warme at 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VEKRAZZANO. 145 

a great fire, not without our great feare which 
remained in the boate, that they would have 
rosted him at that fire, and have eaten him. 
The young man hauing recouered his strength, 
and hauing stayed a while with them, shewed 
them by signes that he was desirous to returne 
to the ship, and they with great loue clapping 
him fast about, with many embracings, accom¬ 
panying him unto the sea, and to put him in 
more assurance, leaving him alone, went unto 
a high ground, and stood there, beholding him 
untill he was entred into the boate. This young 
man obserued, as we did also, that these are of 
colour inclining to blacke as the other were, with 
their flesh very shining, of meane stature, hand¬ 
some visage, and delicate limnes, and of very 
little strength, but of prompt wit, farther we 
observed not. 

Departing from hence, following the shore 
which trended somewhat toward the north, in 50 
leagues space we came to another land which 
shewed much more faire and ful of woods, being 
very great, where we rode at anker; and that 
%ve might have some knowledge thereof, w’e sent 
20 men aland, which entred into the country 
about 2 leagues, and they found that the people 
were fled to the woods for feare. They saw 
13 


146 


APPENDIX. 


only one old woman, with a young maid of 28 
or 20 yeeres old, which seeing our company, hid 
themselves in the grasse for feare; the olde 
woman caried two infants on her shoulders, and 
behind her necke a child of 8 yeeres olde. The 
young woman was laden likewise with as many, 
but when our men came unto them, the women 
cried out, the olde woman made signes that the 
men were fledde unto the woods. As soone as 
they saw us to quiet them and to win their fa¬ 
vour, our men gave them such victuals as they 
had with them, to eate, which the olde woman 
received thankfully, but the young woman dis¬ 
dained them all, and threw them disdainfully on 
the ground. They tooke a child from the olde 
woman to bring into France, and going about 
to take the young woman which was very beau¬ 
tiful and of tall stature, they could not possibly 
for the great outcries that she made bring her to 
the sea; and especially having great woods to 
passe thorow, and being farre from the ship, we 
purposed to leaue her behind, beareing away the 
child onely; we found those folkes to be more 
white than those that we found before, being clad 
with certaine leaues that hang on boughs of 
trees, which they sew together with threds of 
wilde hempe ; their heads were trussed up after 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 147 


the same maner as the former were, their ordi¬ 
nary foode is of pulse, whereof they haue great 
store, differing in colour and taste from ours; of 
good and pleasant taste. Moreover they live 
by fishing and fowling, which they take with 
ginnies, and bowes made of hard wood, the ar- 
rowes of canes, being headed with the bones of 
fish and other beastes. The beastes in these 
partes are much wilder then in our Europe, by 
reason they are continually chased and hunted 
We saw many of their boates, made of one tree 
20 foote long and 4 foote broad, which are not 
made with yron or stone, or any other kind of 
metall (because that in all this country for the 
space of 200 leagues which we ranne, we neuer 
saw’ one stone of any sort:) they help them- 
selues with fire, burning so much of the tree as 
is sufficient for the hollownesse of the boate. 
The like they doe in making the sterne and the 
foreparte, until it be fit to saile upon the sea. 
The land is in situation, goodness and fairnesse 
like the other; it hath woods like the other, 
thinne and full of diuers sorts of trees, but not 
so sweete, because the country is more northerly 
and colde. 

We saw in this country many vines growing 
naturally, wdiich growing up, took holde of the 


148 


' APPENDIX. 


trees as they doe in Lombardie, which, it by 
husbandmen they were dressed in good order, 
without all doubt they would yeeld excellent 
wines; for hauing oftentimes seene the fruit 
thereof dryed, which was sweete and pleasant, 
and not differing from ours, we thinke that they 
doe esteeme the same, because that in euery 
place where they growe, they take away the un¬ 
der branches growing round about, that the frui 
thereof may ripen the better. We found also 
roses, violets, lilies, and many sortes of herbes, 
and sweete and odoriferous flowers different from 
ours. We knewe not their dwellings, because 
they were farre up in the land, and we iudge by 
many signes that we saw', that they are of wmod 
and of trees framed together. We doe belieue 
also by many conjectures and signes, that many 
of them sleeping in the fields, have no other 
couert then the open sky. Farther knowledge 
haue we not of them; we think that all the rest 
whose countreys we passed, liue all after one 
maner. Hauing made our aboade three days in 
this country, and ryding on the coast for want of 
harboroughs, we concluded to depart from thence 
trending along the shore betweene the north 
and the east, sayeling onely in the day time, and 
ryding at anker by night. In the space of 100 


RELATION OF JOHN BE VERRAZZANO. 149 

leagues sayling we found a very pleasant place 
situated among certaine little steape hils; from 
amidst the which hils there ranne downe into 
the sea. an exceeding great streme of water, 
which within the mouth was very deepe, and 
from the sea to the mouth of the same with the 
tide which we found to rise 8 foote, any great 
ship laden may passe up. But because we rode 
at anker in a place well fenced from the wind 
we would not venture ourselues without know¬ 
ledge of the place, and we passed up with our 
boate onely into the sayd river, and saw the 
countrey very well peopled. The people are 
almost like unto the others, and are clade with 
the feathers of fowles of diuers colours; they 
came towards us very cheerefully, making great 
showts of admiration, shewing us where we 
might come to land most safely with our boate. 
We entered up the said riuer into the land about 
halfe a league, where it made a most pleasant 
lake aboute 3 leagues in compasse, on the which 
they rowed from the one side to the other, to 
the number of 30 of their small boats, wherein 
were many people which passed from one shore 
to the other to come and see us. And, behold, 
upon a sudden (as it is woont to fall out in sayl- 
ing) a contrary flaw of winde comming from the 
13* 


150 


APPENDIX. 


sea, we were inforced to returne to our ship, 
leauing this land to our great discontentment, for 
the great commodity and pleasantnesse thereof, 
which we suppose is not without some riches, 
all the hils shewing mineral matters in them. 
We weyed anker and say led toward the east, 
for so the coast trended, and so alwayes for 50 
leagues being in the sight thereof, we discouered 
an island in forme of a triangle, distant from 
the main land 10 leagues about the bignesse of 
the island of the Rhodes; it was full of hils 
covered with trees, well peopled, for we saw 
fires all along the coast; w T e gave it the name 
of your Maiesties mother,* not staying there by 
reason of the weather being contrary. 

And w T e came to another land being 15 leagues 
distant from the island, where we found a pass¬ 
ing good hauen, wherein being entred, we found 
about 20 small boats of the people, which with 
diuers cries and wondrings came about our ship, 
comming no neerer than 50 paces towards us ; 
they stayed and beheld the artificialnesse of 
our ship, our shape and apparel, they then all 
made a loud showt together, declaring that they 
reioyced. When we had something animated 

* Claudian Island. Claudia was tlie mother of King 
Francis. 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 151 


them, using their gestures they came so neere us, 
that we cast them certaine bels and glasses, and 
many toyes, which when they had received, they 
looked on them with laughing, and came with¬ 
out feare a board our ship. There were amongst 
these people 2 kings of so goodly stature and 
shape as is possible to declare, the eldest was 
about 40 yeeres of age, the seconde was a yong 
man of 20 yeeres olde, their apparell was on 
this manner, the elder had upon his naked body 
a harts skin wrought artificially with diuers 
brancdies like damaske, his head was bayre with 
the hayre tyed up behind with diuers knots; 
about his necke he had a large chaine, garnish¬ 
ed with diuers stones of sundry colours, the 
young man was almost apparelled after the same 
maner. This is the goodliest people, and of 
the fairest conditions that we have found in this 
our voyage. They exceed us in bigness, they 
are of the colour of brasse, some of them incline 
more to whitenesse, others are of yellow colour, 
of comely visage, with long and black hair, 
which they are very careful to trim and decke 
up; they are black and quick eyed, and of sweete 
and pleasant countenance, imitating much the 
old fashion. I write not to your Maiestie of the 
other parts of their body, hauing al such propor- 


152 


APPENDIX. 


tion as apperteeneth to any handsome man. The 
women are of the like conformitie and beautie, 
very handsome and wel favoured, of pleasant 
countenance, and comely to behold; they are as 
wel manered and continent as any women, and 
of good education, they are all naked saue their 
loines, which they couer with a deeres skin 
branched or embrodered as the men use, there 
are also of them which weare on their armes 
uery rich skins of Luzernes, they adorne their 
heads with diuers ornaments made of their owne 
hair, which hang downe before on both sides 
their brestes, others use other kind of dressing 
themselues like unto the women of Egypt and 
Syria, these are of the elder sort; and when 
they are maried, they wear diuers toyes, accord¬ 
ing to the usage of the people of the east, as 
well men as women. 

Among whom we saw many peices of wrought 
copper, which they esteeme more than goolde, 
which for the colour they make no account, for 
that among all other it is counted the basest; 
they make most account of azure and red. The 
things that they esteeme most of all those which 
we gaue them, were bels, christal of azure colour, 
and other toyes to hang at their eares or about 
their necke. They did not desire clothe of silke 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 


153 


or of golde, much lesse of any other sort, nei¬ 
ther cared they for thyngs made of steele and 
yron, which we often shewed them in our armour 
which they made no wonder at; and in behold¬ 
ing them they onely asked the arte of making 
them ; the like they did at our glasses, which, 
w 7 hen they beheld, they suddenly laught, and 
gave them us againe. They are very liberal, 
for they give that which they haue ; we became 
great friends with these, and one day we entred 
into the haven w T ith our ship, w r hereas before we 
rode a league off at sea, by reason of the contrary 
weather. They came in great companies of their 
small boats unto the ship with their faces all 
bepainted with diuers colours, shewing us that 
it w T as a signe of ioy, bringing us of their vic¬ 
tuals, they made signes unto us where we might 
safest ride in the hauen for the safeguard of our 
ship keeping still our company, and after w*e 
were come to an anker, we bestowed 15 dayes in 
prouiding ourselues many necessary things, 
w T hither euery day the people repaired to see our 
ship, bringing their wiues with them, whereof 
they w 7 ere very ielous; and they themselves en- 
tring a board the ship and staying there a good 
space caused their wiues to stay in their boats, 
and for all the entreatie we could make, offring 


154 


APPENDIX 


to giue them diuers things, we could neuer ob- 
taine that they would suffer them to comeaborde 
our ship. And oftentimes one of the two kings 
comming with his queene, and many gentlemen 
for their pleasure to see us, they all stayed on the 
shore 200 paces from us, sending us a small boal 
to giue us intelligence of their comming, saying 
they would come and see our ship; this they did 
in token of safety, and as soone as they had an- 
swere from us, they came immediately, and hau- 
ing staied a while to behold it, they wondred al 
hearing the cries and noyses of the Mariners 
The Queene and her maids staied in a very light 
boat, at an Hand a quarter of a league off, while 
the King abode a long space in our ship uttering 
diuers conceits with gestures, viewing with great 
admiration all the furniture of the Shippe, de¬ 
manding the property of euery thing particularly 
He tooke likewise great pleasure in beholding 
our apparell, and in tasting our meats, and so 
courteously taking his leave departed. And 
sometimes our men staying 2 or 3 daies on a little 
Hand neere the Shippe for diuers necessaries, 
(as it is the use of seamen,) he returned with 7 
or 8 of his gentlemen to see what we did, and 
asked of us oftentimes if we meant to make any 
long abode there, offering us of their prouision ; 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 155 


/hen the King drawing his bow and running up 
and down with his gentlemen, made much sport 
to gratifie our men: we were oftentimes within 
the land five or six leagues, which we found as 
pleasant as is possible to declare, very apt for 
any kind of husbandry, of Corne, Wine and Oyle 
for that there are plaines twentie-five or thirtie 
leagues broad, open and without any impediment, 
of trees of such fruitfulnesse, that any seed being 
sowen therein, wil bring forth most excellent 
fruit. We entered afterwards into the woods, 
which we found so great and thicke, that any 
army were it neuer so great might have hid it 
selfe therein, the trees whereof are okes, cipresse 
trees, and other sortes unknowen in Europe. 
We found Pome appil, damson trees, and nut 
trees, and many other sortes of fruit differing 
from ours; there are beasts in great abundance, 
as harts, deere, luzernes, and other kinds which 
they take with their'nets and bowes which are 
their chief weapons, the arrowes which they use 
are made of great cunning, and instead of yron, 
they head them with flint, with jasper stone and 
hard marble, and other sharp stones which they 
use instead of yron to cut trees, and to make 
their boates of one whole piece of wood making 
it hollow with great and wonderful art, wherein 


156 


APPENDIX. 


10 or 12 men may sit commodiously, their oares 
are short and broad at the end, and they use 
them in the sea without any danger, and by 
maine force of armes, with as great speediness 
as they lift themselves. We saw T their Houses 
made in circular or round forme 10 or 12 paces 
in compasse, made with halfe circles of Timber, 
separate one from another without any order of 
building, couered with mattes of Straw wrought 
cunningly together, which saue them from the 
winde and rainej and if they had the order of 
building and perfect skill of workmanship as we 
have, there were no doubt but that they would 
also make eftsoons great and stately buildings. 
For all the sea coastes are ful of clear and glis¬ 
tering stones and alabaster, and therefore it is 
ful of good hauens and harboroughs for Shippes. 
They moove the foresaid Houses from one place 
to another, according to the commodity of the place 
and season wherein they wil make their abode; 
and only taking off the mattes they haue other 
Houses budded incontinent. The Father and 
the whole Family dwell together in one house 
in great number, in some of them we saw 25 or 
30 persons. They feede as the other doe afore¬ 
said, of pulse which grow in that Country, with 
better order of husbandry than in the others. 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 157 

They observe in their sowing the course of the 
Moone and the rising of certaine Starres, and 
divers other customs spoken of by antiquity. 
Moreover they liue by hunting and fishing. They 
live long and are seldom sicke, and if they 
chance to fall sicke at any time, they heal 
themselves with fire without any phisician, and 
they say that they die for very age. They 
are very pitifull and charitable towards their 
neighbours, they make great lamentations in 
their adversitie, and in their miserie, the kin- 
red reckon up all their felicitie. At their de¬ 
parture out of life, they use mourning mixt with 
singing, which continueth for a long space. 
This is as much as we could learne of them. This 
Land is situate in the Paralele of Rome in 41 
degrees and 2 terces, but somewhat more cold 
by accidentall causes and not of nature, (as I 
will declare unto your highnesse elsewhere,) de¬ 
scribing at this present the situation of the fore- 
said country, which lieth east and west. I say 
that the mouth of the haven lieth open to the 
south halfe a league broad, and being entred 
within it betweene the east and the north it 
stretcheth twelve leagues, where it wareth broad¬ 
er and broader, and rnaketh a gulfe about 20 
leagues in compasse, wherein are five small 
14 


158 


APPENDIX. 


islands very fruitful and pleasant, full of hie and 
broad trees among the which islandes any great 
nauie may ride safe without any feare of tempest 
or other danger. Afterwards turning towards 
the south in the entring into the hauen, on both 
sides there are most pleasant hils, with many 
riuers of most cleare water falling into the sea. 
In the middest of this entrance there is a rocke 
of free stone, growing by nature, apt to build any 
castle or fortresse there for the keeping of the 
haven. The fift of May being furnished with 
all things necessarie, we departed from the said 
coaste, keeping along in the sight thereof, and wee 
sailed 150 leagues, finding it alwayes after one 
maner, but the land somewhat higher with cer- 
taine mountaines, all which beare a shew of 
minerall matter, wee sought not to land there in 
any place, because the weather serued our turne 
for sailing; but wee suppose that it was like 
the former, the coaste ranne eastward for the 
space of fiftie leagues. And trending afterwards 
to the north, wee found another land high full 
of thicke woods, the trees whereof were firres, 
cipresses, and such like as are wont to grow in 
cold countreys. The people differ much from 
the other, and looke howe much the former seem¬ 
ed to be courteous and gentle, so much were 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 159 

these full of rudenesse and ill maners, and so 
barbarous that by no signes that euer we could 
make, we could have any kind of traffic with 
them. They clothe themselues with beares 
skinnes and luzernes, and seales and other 
beastes skinnes. Their foode, as farre as we 
could perceiue, repairing often unto their dwell¬ 
ings, we suppose to be by hunting and fishing, 
and of certaine fruits, which are a kind of roots 
which the earth yeeldeth of her own accord. 
They haue no graine, neither saw we any kind 
of signe of tillage, neither is the land for the bar- 
rennesse thereof, apt to beare fruit or seed. If 
at any time we desired by exchange to haue 
any of their commodities, they used to come to 
the sea shore upon certaine craggy rocks, and 
we standing in our boats, they let downe with 
a rope what it pleased them to give us, crying 
continually that we should not approch to the 
land, demanding immediately the exchange, tak¬ 
ing nothing but kniues, fish-hooks, and tooles to 
cut withall, neyther did they make any account 
of our courtesie. And when we had nothing 
left to exchange with them, when we departed 
from them, the people shewed all signes of dis- 
courtesie and disdaine, as were possible for any 
creature to inuent. We were in despight of 


160 


APPENDIX. 


them 2 or 3 leagues within the land, being in 
numbei twenty-five armed men of us: And 
when we went on shore they shot at us with 
their bowes, making great outcries, and after¬ 
wards fled into the woods. We found not in 
this land any thing notable or of importance, 
sauing very great wood and certaine hills, they 
may haue some mineral matter in them, because 
wee saw many of them haue headstones of copper 
hanging at their eares. We departed from 
thence, keeping our course north east along the 
coaste, which we found more pleasant champion 
and without woods, with high mountains within 
the land; continuing directly along the coast for 
the space of fiftie leagues, we discouered 32 
islands, lying al neere the land, being small and 
pleasant to the view, high, and having many 
turnings and windings between them, making 
many fair harboroughs and chanels as they doe 
in the gulf of Venice , in Sclauonia and Dal¬ 
matia , we had no knowledge or acquaintance 
with the people: we suppose they are of the 
same maners and nature as the others are. Sayl- 
ing north east for the space of 150 leagues, we 
approched the land that was in times past dis¬ 
couered by the Britons, which is in fiftie de¬ 
grees. Hauing now spent all our prouision and 


RELATION OF JOHN DE VERRAZZANO. 161 

victuals, and hailing discouered about 700 leagues 
and more of new countreys, and being furnished 
with water and wood, we concluded to returne 
into France. Touching the religion of this peo¬ 
ple which we have found, for want of their lan¬ 
guage we could not understand, neither by signes 
nor gestures, that they had any religion or laws 
at all, or that they did acknowledge any first 
cause or mouer, neither that they worship the 
heauen or starres, the sunne or moone, or other 
planets, and much lesse whether they be idola¬ 
ters, neither could we learne whether that they 
used any kind of sacrifices or other adorations, 
neither in their villages haue they any temples 
or houses of prayer ; we suppose that they haue 
no religion at all, and that they liue at their 
owne libertie. And, that all this proceedeth of 
ignorance, for that they are very easie to be per¬ 
suaded ; and all that they see us Christians doe 
in our diuine service, they did the same with the 
like imitation as they saw us to doe it. 


THE END. 




14 * 








THE 


ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 


CHAPTER I. 



OME men choose to live in 
crowded cities ;—others are 
pleased with the peaceful quiet 
of a country farm ; while some 
love to roam through wild for¬ 
ests, and make their homes in 
the wilderness. The man of 
whom I shall now speak, was 
one of this last class. Perhaps you 
never heard of Daniel Boone, the 
Kentucky rifleman. If not, then I 
have a strange and interesting story 
to tell you. 

If, when a child was bom, we knew 
that he was to become a remarkable man, 
the time and place of his birth would, 
perhaps, be always remembered. But as this can 
not be known, great mistakes are often made on 
these points. As to the time when Daniel Boone 



14 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


was born, there is no difficulty ; but people have 
fallen into many blunders about the place. Some 
have said that he was born in England, before his 
parents left that country ; others that he came into 
this world during the passage of his parents across 
the Atlantic. One has told us that he was born m 
Virginia ; another in Maryland ; while many have 
stated that he' was a native of North Carolina. 
These are all mistakes. Daniel Boone was born 
in the year 1746, in Bucks county, in the state of 
Pennsylvania. 

From some cause or other, when the boy was 
but three years old, his parents moved from this 
home, and settled upon the Schuylkill river, not far 
from the town of Reading. Here they lived for 
ten years ; and it was during this time that their 
son Daniel began to show his passion for hunting. 
He was scarcely able to carry a gun, when he 
was shooting all the squirrels, rackoons, and even 
wild-cats (it is said), that he could find in that re¬ 
gion. As he grew older, his courage increased, 
and then we find him amusing himself with higher 
game. Other lads in the neighborhood were soon 
taught by him the use of the rifle, and were then 
able to join him in his adventures. On one occa¬ 
sion, they all started out for a hunt, and after 
amusing themselves till it was almost dark, were 
returning homeward, when suddenly a wild cry 
was heard in the woods. The boys screamed out, 


DANIEL BOONE. 


15 


“A panther ! *a panther !” and ran off as fast as 
they could. Boone stood firmly, looking around 
for the animal. It was a panther indeed. His 
eye lighted upon him just in the act of spring¬ 
ing toward him : in an instant he levelled his rifle, 
and shot him through the heart. 

But this sort of sport was not enough for him. 
He seemed resolved to go away from men, and 
live in the forests with these animals. One morn¬ 
ing he started off as usual, with his rifle and 
dog. Night came on, but Daniel did not re¬ 
turn to his home. Another day and night passed 
away, and still the boy did not make his appear¬ 
ance. His parents were now greatly alarmed. 
The neighbors joined them in making search for 
the lad. After wandering about a great while, 
they at length saw smoke rising from a cabin in 
the distance. Upon reaching it, they found the 
boy. The floor of the cabin was covered with the 
skins of such animals as he had slain, and pieces 
of meat were roasting before the fire for his sup¬ 
per. Here, at a distance of three miles from any 
settlement, he had built his cabin of sods and 
branches, and sheltered himself in the wilderness. 

It was while his father was living on the head¬ 
waters of the Schuylkill, that young Boone re¬ 
ceived, so far as we know, all his education. Short 
indeed were his schoolboy days. It happened that 
an Irish schoolmaster strolled into the settlement, 


16 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


and, by the advice of Mr. Boone and other parents, 
opened a school in the neighborhood. It was not 
then as it is now. Good schoolhouses were not 
scattered over the land ; nor were schoolmasters 
always able to teach their pupils. The school- 
house where the boys of this settlement went was 
a log cabin, built in the midst of the woods. The 
schoolmaster was a strange man: sometimes good- 
humored, and then indulging the lads ; sometimes 
surly and ill-natured, and then beating them se¬ 
verely. It was his usual custom, after hearing the 
first lessons of the morning, to allow the children 
to be out for a half hour at play, during which time 
he strolled off to refresh himself from his labors. 
He always walked in the same direction, and the 
boys thought that after his return, when they 
were called in, he was generally more cruel than 
ever. They were whipped more severely, and 
oftentimes without any cause. They observed 
this, but did not know the meaning of it. One 
morning young Boone asked that he might go out, 
and had scarcely left the schoolroom, when he saw 
a squirrel running over the trunk of a fallen tree. 
True to his nature, he instantly gave chase, until 
at last the squirrel darted into a bower of vines 
and branches. Boone thrust his hand in, and, to his 
surprise, laid of hold of a bottle of whiskey. This 
was in the direction of his master’s morning walks, 
and he thought now that he understood the secret of 


DANIEL BOONE. 


17 


much of his ill-nature. He returned to the school¬ 
room ; but when they were dismissed for that day, 
he told §ome of the larger boys of his discovery. 
Their plan was soon arranged. Early the next 
morning a bottle of whiskey, having tartar emetic 
in it, was placed in the bower, and the other bottle 
thrown away. At the usual hour, the lads were 
sent out to play, and the master started on his 
walk. But their play was to come afterward : 
they longed for the master to return. At length 
they were called in, and in a little time saw the 
success of their experiment. The master began 
to look pale and sick, yet still went on with his 
work. Several boys were called up, one after the 
other, to recite lessons, and all whipped soundly, 
whether right or wrong. At last young Boone 
was called out to answer questions in arithme¬ 
tic. He came forward with his slate and pencil, 
and the master began : “If you subtract six from 
nine, what remains V ’ said he. “ Three, sir,” said 
Boone. “ Very good,” said the master ; “ now let 
us come to fractions. If you take three quarters 
from a whole number, what remains ?”—“ The 
whole, sir,” answered Boone. “ You blockhead!” 
cried the master, beating him, “ you stupid little 
fool, how can you show that?”—“ If I take one 
bottle of whiskey,” said Boone, “ and put in its 
place another in which I have mixed an emetic, 
the whole will remain, if nobody drinks it!” The 
2 * 


18 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Irishman, dreadfully sick, was now doubly enraged, 
He seized Boone, and commenced beating him: 
the children shouted and roared ; the scuffle con¬ 
tinued, until Boone knocked the master down upon 
the floor, and rushed out of the room. It was a 
day of freedom now for the lads. The story soon 
ran through the neighborhood ; Boone was rebuked 
by his parents, but the schoolmaster was dismissed, 
and thus ended the boy’s education. 

Thus freed from school, he now returned more 
ardently than ever to his favorite pursuit. His 
dog and rifle were his constant companions, and 
day after day he started from home, only to 
roam through the forests. Hunting seemed to 
be the only business of his life ; and he was never 
so happy as when at night he came home laden 
with game. He was an untiring wanderer. 

I do not know but that this passion for roaming 
was in some degree inherited by Daniel Boone. 
His father had already had three homes : one in 
England, one in Bucks county, and another on the 
Schuylkill; and he now thought of removing fur¬ 
ther. It is said that the passion of Daniel for 
hunting was one cause which prompted his father 
to think of this. Land was becoming scarce, the 
neighborhood a little crowded, and game less 
abundant; and, to mend matters, he began to cast 
his eyes around for a new home. He was not long 
in choosing one. He had heard of a rich and 


DANIEL BOONE. 


19 


beautiful country on the banks of the Yadkin river 
in North Carolina, and he determined that this 
should be the next resting-place for him and his 
household. 

All things were made ready as soon as possible, 
and the journey commenced. It was a fine spring 
morning when the father started for his new home, 
with his wife and children, his flocks and herds. 
Their journey lay hundreds of miles through a 
trackless wilderness ; yet with cheerful and fear¬ 
less hearts they pressed onward. When hungry, 
they feasted upon venison and wild turkeys (for 
Daniel, with his rifle, was in company); when 
thirsty, they found cool springs of water to refresh 
them by the way; when wearied at night, they 
laid themselves down and slept under the wide- 
spreading branches of the forest. At length they 
reached the land they looked for, and the father 
found it to be all that he expected. The woods in 
that region were unbroken ; no man seemed yev to 
have found them. Land was soon cleared, a cabin 
built, and the father in a little time found himself 
once more happily settled with his family. 

The old man with his other sons went busily to the 
work of making a farm. As for Daniel, they knew 
it was idle to expect his help in such empieyment, 
and therefore left him to roam about with his 
rifle. This was a glorious country for the youth ; 
wild woods were all around him, and the game, 


20 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


having not yet learned to fear the crack of the rifle, 
wandered fearlessly through them. This he thought 
was, of all places, the home for him. I hope you 
will not think that he was the idle and useless boy 
of the family, for it was not so. While the farm 
was improving, Daniel was supplying the family 
with provisions. The table at home was always 
filled with game, and they had enough and to spare. 
Their house became known as a warm-hearted 
and hospitable abode ; for the wayfaring wanderer, 
when lost in the woods, was sure to find here a 
welcome, a shelter, and an abundance. Then, too, 
if money was wanted in the family, the peltries 
of the animals shot by Daniel supplied it: so 
that he was, in a large degree, the supporter 
of the household. In this way years rolled on¬ 
ward—the farm still enlarging and improving, 
Daniel still hunting, and the home one of constant 
peace, happiness, and plenty. 

At length the story of the success and comfort 
of the family brought neighbors around them. Dif¬ 
ferent parts of the forests began to be cleared ; 
smoke was soon seen rising from new cabins ; 
and the sharp crack of other rifles than Daniel’s 
was sometimes heard in the morning. This grieved 
him sadly. Most people would have been pleased 
to find neighbors in the loneliness of the woods ; 
but what pleased others did not please him. They 
were crowding upon him; they were driving away 


DANIEL BOONE. 


21 


his game : this was his trouble. But, after all, 
there was one good farmer who came into the re¬ 
gion and made his settlement; which settlement, 
as it turned out, proved a happy thing for Daniel. 
This was a very worthy man named Bryan. 
He cleared his land, built his cabin upon a sloping 
hill, not very far from Mr. Boone’s, and before 
a great while, by dint of industry, had a good farm 
of more than a hundred acres. This farm was 
beautifully situated. A pretty stream of water 
almost encircled it. On the banks of the Schuyl¬ 
kill, Daniel Boone found all his education, such 
as it was; on the banks of the Yadkin he found 
something far better. I must tell you now of a 
very strange adventure. 

One evening, with another young friend, he 
started out upon what is called a “ fire-hunt .” Per¬ 
haps you do not know what this means. I will 
explain it to you. Two people are always neces¬ 
sary for a fire-hunt. One goes before, carrying a 
blazing torch of pitch-pine wood (or lightwood, as 
it is called in the southern country), while the other 
follows behind with his rifle. In this way the two 
hunters move through the forests. When an ani¬ 
mal is startled, he will stand gazing at the light, 
and his eyes may be seen shining distinctly: this 
is called 11 shining the eyes .” The hunter with the 
rifle, thus seeing him, while the other shines him, 
levels his gun with steady aim, and has a fair shot. 


22 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


This mode of hunting is still practised in many 
parts of our country, and is everywhere known as 
a jire-hunt. 

Boone, with his companion, started out upon such 
a hunt, and very soon reached the woods skirting 
the lower end of Mr. Bryan’s farm. It seems they 
were on horseback, Boone being behind with the 
rifle. They had not gone far, when his companion 
reined up his horse, and two eyes were seen 
distinctly shining. Boone levelled his rifle, but 
something prevented his firing. The animal darted 
off. Boone leaped from his horse, left his com¬ 
panion, and instantly dashed after it. • It was too 
dark to see plainly, still he pursued ; he was close 
upon its track, when a fence coming in the way, 
the animal leaped it with a clear bound. Boone 
climbed over as fast as he could with his rifle, but 
the game had got ahead. Nothing daunted by this, 
he pushed on, until he found himself at last not very 
far from Mr. Bryan’s home. But the animal was 
gone. It was a strange chase. He determined to go 
into Mr Bryan’s house, and tell his adventure. As 
he drew near, the dogs raised a loud barking, the 
master came out, bade him welcome, and carried 
him into the house. Mr. Bryan had scarcely in¬ 
troduced him to his family as “ the son of his 
neighbor Boone,” when suddenly the door of the 
room was burst open, and in rushed a little lad of 
seven, followed by a girl of sixteen years, crying 


DANIEL BOONE. 


23 


out, £< 0 father f father! sister is frightened to death! 
She went down to the river, and was chased by a 
panther!” The hunter and his game had met. 
There stood Boone, leaning upon his rifle, and 
Rebecca Bryan before him, gasping for breath. 
From that moment he continued to pursue it; 
Farmer Bryan’s house became a favorite resort 
for him ; he loved it as well as the woods. The 
business was now changed: Rebecca Bryan com¬ 
pletely shined his eyes; and after a time, to the 
great joy of themselves and both families, Daniel 
Boone and Rebecca Bryan were married. It 
proved, as you will see, a very happy marriage to 
both parties. 

Being now a married man, it became Daniel 
Boone's duty to seek a new home for himself. In 
a little time, therefore, he left his wife, and wan¬ 
dered into the unsettled parts of North Carolina in 
search of one. After moving about for some 
time,* he found, upon the head-waters of the 
Yadkin, a rich soil, covered with a heavy and once 
more unbroken forest. “ Here,” thought Daniel 
Boone, “ is the resting-place for me ; here Rebecca 
Bryan and myself may be happy: this shall be 
our home.” He returned to his wife, and she, 
with a cheerful heart, joined in all his plans. 
With tears in her eyes, she bade farewell to her 
friends; yet, with a light spirit, she started off 
with her husband. A clearing in the woods was 


24 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


soon made, a log cabin of his own soon built, and 
a portion of ground planted. Boone seems now to 
have thought that he must do something more than 
use his rifle. He was to make a home for his wife ; 
and busied himself, accordingly, in enlarging his 
farm as fast as he could, and industriously cul¬ 
tivating it. Still, on his busiest day, he would 
find a leisure hour to saunter with his gun to 
the woods, and was sure never to return with¬ 
out game. His own table was loaded with it, 
as when at his father’s, and his house, like his 
father’s, soon became known as a warm and kind 
shelter for the wandering traveller. In this indus¬ 
trious and quiet way of farming and hunting, years 
were spent, and Daniel Boone was contented and. 
happy. Several little children were now added to 
his group ; and, with his wife, his children, and his 
rifle, for companions, he felt that all was well. 

But his peace was at length disturbed once more. 
His old troubles pursued him ; men again began to 
come near. The crash of falling trees was heard, 
as the new settlers levelled the forests; huts were 
seen springing up all around him; other hunters 
were roaming through the woods, and other dogs 
than his were heard barking. This was more 
than he was willing to bear. Happy as he had 
made his home, he determined to leave it, and find 
another in the wilderness, where he could have 
that wilderness to himself. For some time he was 


DANIEL BOONE. 


25 

at a loss to know where to go ; yet his heart was 
fixed in the determination to move. The circum¬ 
stances which pointed him to his new home, and 
where that new home was made, you may learn in 
the next chapter. 












26 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


CHAPTER II. 



Y young friends all know where 
the state of Kentucky is situ* 
ated. It is hardly necessary for 
me to say, that at the time of 
which I am writing, that region 
was an unbroken wilderness. 

It was in the year 1754 that 
a white man first visited the 
country of Kentucky. This was 
James M‘Bride. In company with 
several others during that year, he 
was passing down the Ohio, when 
he discovered the mouth of Ken¬ 
tucky river, and made a landing. Near 
spot where he landed, he cut upon 
tree the first letters of his name ; and 
these letters, it is said, could be seen and distinctly 
read for many years afterward. With his com¬ 
panions, he wandered through the wilderness ; the 
country struck them all as being remarkably beau¬ 
tiful. It is not wonderful, then, that when they 
returned home, they were filled with fine stories 


DANIEL BOONE. 


27 


about the new region. They declared that it was 
“the best tract of land in North America, and 
probably in the world.” 

In spite of their pleasant stories, however, it was 
a long time before any one was disposed to follow 
in their track. At length, Doctor Walker, of Vir¬ 
ginia, with a number of friends, started upon a 
western tour of discovery. Some say that he was 
in search of the Ohio river particularly; others 
that he went merely to collect strange plants and 
flowers. Be this as it may, he with his party 
wandered through Powell’s Valley, and passed the 
mountains at what is called the Cumberland Gap. 
They then crossed the Cumberland river, and roam¬ 
ing on through the forests, at length, after much 
fatigue and suffering, reached the Big Sandy. The 
country was beautiful, yet they were too much 
worn out to go further, and from this point began 
to return homeward. They had suffered more than 
M‘Bride, and therefore their story was not so bright 
as his ; yet they gave a very pleasant account of 
the new country. 

No one yet, however, seemed ready to make 
his home in Kentucky ; and accident at last seems 
* to have thrown one man into that country, whose 
story, upon his return, made some anxious to go 
there. This was John Finley, a backwoodsman 
of North Carolina. He was in the habit of roving 
about and trading with the Indians. In the year 


28 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


1767 , lie, with certain companions as fearless as 
himself, led on from place to place by the course 
of trade, wandered far into Kentucky. Here he 
remained for some time. It was a very beautiful, 
yet, as he learned also, a very dangerous country. 
No Indian tribe lived there, but all the tribes 
roamed over it as a hunting-ground. Upon these 
hunts, the fierce and warlike people would often 
meet and wage their bloody battles. These fights 
were so frequent and so awful, that the region was 
known by the name of the “ Dark and Bloody 
Ground.” In spite of danger, Finley lived there, 
until at last the traders and the Indians began to 
quarrel, and, for safety’s sake, he was forced to 
run off. He returned to North Carolina, filled with 
wonderful stories. Sights like those on the “ Dark 
and Bloody Ground,” were nowhere to be seen. 
The land was rich, and covered with trees and 
flowers ; there were lofty mountains, beautiful val¬ 
leys, and clear streams, throughout it. Then he 
spoke of the strange caves in the mountains ; of 
curious salt springs ; of the foot-prints of men to 
be seer, distinctly upon the solid rocks ; of the 
strange figures of huge animals on the sides of the 
high cliffs. Game of all sorts was abundant, from 
the buffalo down to the partridge. There was no 
country (he declared) like Kain-tuck-kee* His 
* This was the Indian name for the country. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


29 


tale was so wonderful, that people could not well 
help listening to it. 

Whether John Finley was led there by a knowl¬ 
edge of the man’s character, or whether it was an 
accident, it so happened, that about a year after his 
return, he wandered into the neighborhood of Dan¬ 
iel Boone’s home. It was not long before he fell 
in with Boone, and completely charmed him with 
his stories, Boone had known some sport in the 
forests himself, but the adventures of Finley were 
to him marvellous. He was so much pleased with 
the man, that he invited him, as it was now winter, 
to come to his house, and make his home there 
through the season. The invitation was gladly 
accepted ; and in the cabin of Boone, again and 
again was the wild beauty of the “ Dark and Bloody 
Ground” laid before him. There was no end to 
Finley’s stories of this region. The wind whistled 
without, but the fire blazed cheerfully within ; and 
here they sat, on many a night, almost till dawn, 
Finley talking, and Boone listening. The end of 
all this was, that they determined, when spring 
opened, to go to Kentucky. Boone knew that 
there were hardships and perils in the way, and 
Finley had practically felt them ; but what were 
dangers or difficulties to these fearless men ? The 
first of May was agreed upon as the day for start¬ 
ing, and Finley was then again to meet Boone at 
his house. 


3 * 


30 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


It is not strange that other bold men, who 
heard Finley’s stories, were seized with the same 
desire for going west. Indeed, Boone helped to 
give them that desire, knowing that a few brave 
spirits would be of great service in the new coun¬ 
try. He talked, therefore, warmly of the comforts 
of a new home in the forest, where there was an 
abundance of game, and a complete absence of 
towns and villages. Accordingly, on the first of 
May, 1769, when Finley repaired to Boone’s house, 
he found four others ready for the adventure : these 
were John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Monay, 
and William Cool. The people in the neighbor¬ 
hood, learning what was going on, had likewise 
gathered to look with surprise upon these six men. 
What could prompt men to leave the comforts of 
their quiet homes, and wander off into the wilder¬ 
ness ? They surely were crazy. Boone was much 
beloved as a kind neighbor, and they mourned most 
over his madness. Nothing daunted by all this, 
they were then ready for a start, and were now on 
the point of leaving. We are told that, with tears 
in his eyes, Daniel Boone kissed his wife and chil¬ 
dren ; and if the story be true, I love him the more 
for it. His spirit was beating for his new hunting- 
forests ; he could face all the dangers of the 
“ Dark and Bloody Ground,” but then it was doubt¬ 
ful whether he was not parting with his wife and 
children for ever. At all events, he was leaving 


4 


DAVIEL BOONE. 


31 


them for months, perhaps for years—he knew 
not how long—and who can wonder that tears stood 
in his eyes ? Each man shouldered his rifle, 
shot-bag, powder-horn, and knapsack, and off 
they started—every neighbor straining his eyes 
after them as far as he could see, as the men upon 
whom he was looking for the last time. 

For two or three days they saw nothing new, for 
they were passing over their old hunting-grounds. 
After this, they came to a wild and trackless region, 
and saw from time to time the lofty ridge of moun¬ 
tains which separated them from the western coun¬ 
try. In two days more, the provisions with which 
*ney had started gave out, and the first thing to be 
done was to find a fresh supply. Accordingly they 
halted, chose a suitable spot for their camp, and 
part of them commenced building it of logs and 
branches ; the others went into the woods in search 
of game. It was impossible for such men to starve 
in such a region ; game was abundant. The hunt¬ 
ers returned toward night, with several deer and 
wild turkeys. The camp was finished, a bright 
fire was burning, and in a little time the venison 
was dressed, cooked, and eaten. The supper was 
scarcely finished, when they saw dark clouds gath¬ 
ering, and presently they were visited by a tremen¬ 
dous thunder-storm. The sharp lightning flashed 
through the woods, and the rain poured down in tor¬ 
rents ; yet, in their camp they fearlessly sheltered 


32 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


themselves, the branches covering- them from the 
rain. A man can scarcely be placed during a thun¬ 
der-storm in a more dangerous place than a forest: 
every tree is a mark for the lightning ; yet these 
men were calm and self-possessed, and were mer¬ 
cifully protected. 

The storm having passed over, they made their 
arrangements for the night. For safety’s sake, two 
men were to keep a constant watch, while the 
others slept; and in this duty of watching, they 
were to take turns. About midnight, while Boone 
and Holden were keeping the watch, a sharp shrill 
cry was heard in the woods. They sprang to their 
feet. “ What noise is that ?” said Holden. The 
sound was familiar to Boone. “ Be still,” said 
he ; “ it is only a panther - r come along with me.” 
Moving cautiously from the camp, they listened 
again for the cry. Once more they heard it. 
Creeping through the woods in the direction of the 
sound, they at length saw through the darkness 
the wild, glaring eyes of the animal. Boone lev¬ 
elled his rifle with steady aim, and fired. With a 
wild yell the panther fell to the ground, and began 
to retreat. Both were satisfied that the ball had 
struck him, and returned again to the camp. The 
* crack of the rifle had waked their companions ; the 
adventure was made known to them, and they went 
quietly to sleep again, satisfied that for the rest of 
the night at least that panther would not disturb them* 


DANIEL BOONE. 


33 


The next day was a very busy one. Finding 
game so plenty in the neighborhood, they deter¬ 
mined to lay in a good supply. Part of them were 
therefore out in the woods, hunting, while the rest 
were in the camp, smoking, drying, and packing 
the venison for the journey. Fatigued with these 
labors, when night came they gladly laid them¬ 
selves down, and, like wearied men, slept soundly. 

By the first ray of the morning’s light the camp 
was stirring. Shouldering their rifles and knap¬ 
sacks, they started on their way. In a little time 
they found a dead panther. Boone declared that 
this was his panther ; the animal was killed with 
one ball, and by comparing that ball with those in 
his shot-bag, he found they were of the same size. 
In two or three days they reached the foot of the 
mountains, and began to ascend. Their journey 
was now rough and wearisome, and they made 
slow progress. To any men but these, the moun¬ 
tains might have proved impassable ; but they were 
bent upon finding the new hunting-grounds of Ken¬ 
tucky, and nothing could keep them back. After 
climbing the hills day after day, they found once 
more that their provisions were gone, and were 
again forced to halt. Their camp was built on the 
side of the mountain, and their rifles easily supplied 
their wants. The journey was rigorously renewed, 
and after many days of further struggling, they at 
length found themselves on one of the tops of the 


34 


THE ADVENTURES' OF 


Allegany ridge. Here they were, upon Cumber* 
land mountain. At this place they halted once more, 
to look down upon the magnificent prospect which 
was spread out before them. This was their first 
view of the new region, and they felt that it was 
all that Finley had described it to be. It was in¬ 
deed a glorious country. The land was covered 
with trees and flowers ; there were the rolling 
hills, and the beautiful valleys, and the clear 
sparkling streams, of which he had spoken. 

The prospect was too beautiful to allow them to 
tarry long: they panted to be in that country. 
With more earnest desires than ever, they com¬ 
menced descending the mountains. This part of 
the journey was comparatively easy. In a few 
days now they reached the western base of the 
hills, and entered a lovely plain. Here, for the 
first time, the new hunters saw the finest of 
western game—a herd of buffaloes. From the skirt 
of the wood at the end of the plain, a countless 
troop of these animals came rushing over it. The 
men were delighted ; they had heard of these noble 
beasts of the forest, but none of them, except Fin¬ 
ley, had ever seen one. As the mass came 
tramping toward them, they stood gazing in as¬ 
tonishment. Finley, who knew that men were 
sometimes trampled' to death by these moving 
troops, kept his eye steadily upon the herd until 
the foremost was within rifle-shot; he then levelled 


DANIEL BOONE, 


35 


his gun, and the leader fell dead. With a wild 
bellow the herd parted on each side of the fallen 
animal, and went scampering through the plain. 
There seemed no end to the number, as they still 
came rushing from the wood. The mass appeared 
closing again in a solid body, when he seized 
Holden’s rifle, and shot another. Now they were 
completly routed ; branching off on the two sides 
of the plain, they went bellowing and tearing past 
them. “ An amazing country, this !” cried Boone ; 
“ who ever beheld such an abundance ?” The 
camp was once more soon built, a blazing fire 
made, and, for the first time in their lives, five of 
these men sat down to a supper of buffalo-meat. 
They talked of their new country, the quan¬ 
tity of game, and how joyously they would roam 
through the huge forests, until the night had worn 
far away. 

The next morning, after breakfast, they packed 
up such portions of the animals as they could 
readily carry, and resumed their march. In a little 
time they reached Red river. Here Finley began 
to feel more at home, for on this river he had lived. 
Following the course of the stream, ere long they 
came to the place which had been his trading-post 
with the Indians. They had been more than a 
month reaching this point, and, naturally enough, 
were wearied. Finley, too, could no longer guide 
them ; and here, for the present, they determined 


36 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


to halt again. It was now the seventh day of 
June. 

As this was to be their headquarters for some 
time, they built at once a substantial log cabin. 
They were now fairly in the .wilds of Ken¬ 
tucky; and remembering that the whole region 
was the fighting-ground of the wandering Indians, 
the cabin was built not only to protect them from the 
weather, but to answer as a sort of fort against the 
savages. This shelter being provided, their whole 
time now was given to hunting and exploring the 
country. Hunting was a pastime indeed, the game 
was so abundant. They could look out upon herds 
of buffaloes scattered through the canebrakes, 
browsing upon the leaves of the cane, or cropping 
the tall grass ; the deer bounded fearlessly by the 
very door of their hut, and wild turkeys were to 
be found everywhere. Everything was in a state 
of nature ; the animals had not yet learned to be 
afraid of man. Of course, they did not suffer with 
hunger : provisions of the finest kind were ever in 
their cabin. But the buffaloes provided theih with 
more than food. From time to time, as they need¬ 
ed moccasins for their feet, his skin supplied them; 
and when at night they felt the dampness of the 
weather, his hide was the blanket in which they 
wrapped themselves and slept soundly. 

The country, as they wandered through it, struck 
them as beautiful indeed. There were the lofty 


DANIEL BOONE. 


37 


trees of the forest, with no undergrowth except 
the cane, the grass, and the flowers. They 
seemed to have been planted by the hand of man at 
regular distances. Clear streams were seen wind¬ 
ing through lovely meadows, surrounded by the 
gently-sloping hills ; and the fearless buffalo and 
deer were their companions every hour. In their 
wanderings they came several times to hard and 
well-tramped roads. It was by following these 
that they discovered many of the salt springs or 
licks where salt is made even now. The roads 
to these were worn thus hard by the buffaloes 
and other animals that were in the habit of visiting 
the springs. 

The place of Finley’s old trading-post, where 
their cabin now stood, seems to have been chosen 
by him not only as a central point for trade : it was 
on the side of a finely-sloping hill, and command¬ 
ed a good view of the country below. The situa¬ 
tion was beautiful. Perhaps he chose it when he 
was a lonely white man in the wilderness, because 
thence he might readily see the approach of 
Indians, and make his escape, or perhaps it was 
the very beauty of the spot that charmed him. He 
had a love for the beautiful. One day, he and Boone 
were standing by the door of the cabin. The 
wind was sighing in the tops of the forest, and 
while they were listening to the music, they were 
looking out upon the beautiful region below ; the 
4 


38 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


grass was green, and the bright flowers turned up 
their leaves to the sun. “ Glorious country!” cried 
Finley; “ this wilderness does indeed blossom like 
the rose.”—“ Yes,” replied Boone, “ and who 
would live amid the barren pine-hills of North Car¬ 
olina, to hear the screaming of the jay, and now 
and then shoot a deer too lean to be eaten 1 This 
is the land for hunters. Here man and beast may 
grow to their full size.” 

In this way, for more than six months, these 
men fearlessly hunted and roamed through the 
woods. Contrary to their expectations, through 
the whole summer they saw no Indians, nor did 
they meet with any remarkable adventure. The 
precaution of a nightly watch was adopted, but 
they met with no disturbance from man or beast. 
They had glorious sport by day, and slept quietly 
at night. After this, as you will see, they began 
to meet difficulties. 

On the 22d of December, Boone and Stewart 
started off, as they had often done before, upon an 
exploring tour. After wandering several miles, 
they pressed their way through a piece of thick 
woods, and came out upon a boundless open forest. 
Here they found quantities of persimmon-tre^*. 
loaded with ripe fruit, while clusters of wild gr^cs 
covered the vines that were hanging from the lofty 
branches. Flowers were still in bloom, and scented 
the air; herds of animals might be seen through 


DANIEL BOONE. 


39 


the forest in every direction : add to this that the 
day was beautiful, and you will not be surprised to 
learn that they continued to wander—indeed, that 
they wandered much further than they supposed. 
It was nearly dark when they reached the Ken¬ 
tucky river, and stood looking upon its rippling 
waters. Perceiving a hill close by, they climbed 
it, that they might take a better view of the course 
of the stream. They were now descending, on 
their way homeward, when suddenly they heard 
an Indian yell, and out rushed from the canebrake 
a party of savages. They had no time for re¬ 
sistance—indeed, time was nothing ; they were 
overpowered by numbers. The savages seized 
them, took away., their rifles and ammunition, 
bound them, and marched them off to their 
camp. The next morning they started off with 
their prisoners, the poor fellows not knowing 
where they were going, or what was to be 
done to them. They did not know one word of 
their language, and could therefore learn noth¬ 
ing : this much, however, they very well under¬ 
stood—that it would not do to show any signs of 
fear to the Indians ; and therefore they went on 
cheerfully. In a little time they became better 
acquainted with their captors, and judged, from 
certain signs, that the Indians themselves had not 
determined what was to be done. Part seemed to 
be for sparing them, part for killing; still their cheer- 


40 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


fulness was the same. This apparent fearlessness 
deceived the Indians ; they supposed the prisoners 
were well pleased with their condition, and did not 
watch them closely. On the seventh night of 
their march, the savages, as usual, made their 
camp, and all laid down to sleep. About mid¬ 
night, Boone touched Stewart, and waked him : 
now or never was their time. They rose, groped 
their way to the rifles, and stole from the camp. 
They hardly dared to look behind them ; every 
sound startled them, even the snapping of the twigs 
under their feet. Fortunately, it was dark, even 
if the Indians pursued. They wandered all that 
night and the whole of the next day, when at last, 
without meeting a man, they reached their own 
camp. But what was their surprise on finding the 
camp plundered, and not one of their companions 
to be seen ? What had become of them ? Perhaps 
they were prisoners ; possibly they were murdered; 
or it might be that they had started back for North 
Carolina. They were safe, but where were their 
comrades ? Wearied in body, and tormented with 
fears for their friends, they commenced preparing 
for the night. A sound was now heard. They 
seized their rifles, and stood ready, expecting the 
Indians. Two men were seen indistinctly ap¬ 
proaching. “ Who comes there V’ cried Boone. 
“ White men and friends,” was the answer. Boone 
knew the voice. In an instant more, his brother 


DANIEL BOONE. 


41 


Squire Boone, with another man, entered the cabin. 
These two men had set out from Carolina for the 
purpose of reaching them, and had for days been 
wandering in search of their camp. It was a joyous 
meeting—the more joyous, because unexpected. 
Big tears were again in Daniel Boone’s eyes when 
he heard, from his brother, that his wife and chil¬ 
dren were well. 


4 ' 


42 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


CHAPTER III. 



HEN Squire Boone had told 
his brother all the news of 
home, it became his turn to be 
a listener, while Daniel talked 
to him of all that happened 
since they parted. After tel¬ 
ling him of the beautiful coun¬ 
try, and their happy freedom 
as they wandered through it for six 
months, then came the story of his 
- captivity and escape. That escape 
was but just now made, and with a 
full heart he dwelt upon this part 
of his story. It would not have been 
strange if Squire had now felt alarmed ; 
1 )j ''' but his disposition was much like his 
brother’s : he loved the woods, and was afraid of 
nothing. 

In a little time, the four were once more hunting 
freely through the forests. Signs of Indians were 
to be seen around, however ; possibly they were 


DANIEL BOONE. 


43 


the very Indians who had captured them. In their 
wanderings, therefore, they kept together usually, 
for self-protection. One day, they started out upon 
a buffalo-hunt. As they came upon a herd of these 
animals, Stewart lodged his ball in one of them, 
without bringing him down. The buffalo went 
tearing through the forest; and Daniel Boone, with 
Stewart, forgetful of everything else, went chasing 
after him. Naturally enough, like excited men, 
they had no idea how far they had travelled, until 
their very weariness reminded them that it was time 
to turn back. Tired as he was, a harder race was 
now before Boone. They had scarcely started on 
their return, when a party of Indians rushed from 
the cane-brake, and let fly their arrows. Stewart 
fell dead on the spot. Boone would have fired his 
rifle, but he felt it was useless : he could kill but 
one man; his only chance of escape was in flight. 
With Indian yells and arrows close behind him, he 
leaped forward, and, by tremendous exertions, at 
last distanced his pursuers. When he reached the 
camp, he fell, completely exhausted. 

The party, now cut down to three, was in a 
little time reduced to two. From some cause or 
other, they could not tell what—possibly the sad 
story jf Stewart’s death, and the fear of like trou¬ 
bles—the companion who had come out with 
Squire Boone determined upon returning to North 


44 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Carolina. Very soon, therefore, he left them alone 
in the wilderness.* 

It is not strange that, being thus deserted, Squire 
Boone felt restless and dissatisfied ; the wonder is, 
that Daniel was not dissatisfied likewise. But he 
was happy and contented, and often struggled to 
call up the same feelings in his brother. “ You 
see,” he would often say, “ how little nature re¬ 
quires, to be satisfied. Happiness, the companion 
of content, is rather found in our own breasts than 
in the enjoyment of external things. I firmly be¬ 
lieve it requires but a little philosophy to make a 
man happy in whatsoever state he is. This con¬ 
sists in a full resignation to the will of Providence ; 
and a resigned soul finds pleasure in a path strewed 
with briars and thorns.” This was good counsel, 
my young friends, and I hope you will bear it with 
you through life. It will serve to comfort you as 
much as it did Squire Boone. 

To be idle, was to allow time for this mel¬ 
ancholy, and Daniel Boone kept his brother 
constantly busy. The Indians, they were certain, 

* It is said by some that this man did not thus leave them. 
Their story is, that the three started out upon a hunt; that this 
man was separated from the Boones, and became entangled in. 
a swamp. The Boones searched for him, but could not find 
him. Afterward, they found fragments of his clothes, which 
convinced them that the poor man had been torn to pieces by 
wolves. 

Daniel Boone, however, tells a different story. He says that 
the man left them, “ and returned home by himselfand I 
have preferred his statement to any other. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


45 


knew where their present camp was, and therefore 
they resolved to make another. After choosing 
their spot, they employed themselves industriously 
in erecting another cabin, which might serve to 
shelter them through the coming winter. This 
being finished, they went to their old sport, wan¬ 
dering through the woods, admiring the country, 
and bringing down now and then a buffalo or a deer 
with their rifles. At night, they would return to 
their camp, raise a fire, cook their supper, and sit 
till long after midnight, talking of their old home 
on the Yadkin. Squire forgot his loneliness, and 
became quite satisfied. In this way time rolled 
off until the winter had passed away, and spring 
appeared. Strangely enough, they had been un¬ 
disturbed ; they had met not even with one Indian. 

They had learned in the wilderness to dispense 
well nigh with all comforts ; food and sleep were 
all they expected. But their powder and shot were 
now beginning to run low, and without these they 
could not long procure food. It was necessary, 
therefore, to make some arrangement whereby they 
might obtain a fresh supply. Their plan was soon 
settled: Squire Boone was to go back to North Car¬ 
olina, and return with ammunition. They supposed 
horses would be valuable, also, and he was like¬ 
wise to bring with him two of these. Perilous as 
the plan was, Squire agreed to bear his part in it } 
and Daniel as cheerfully consented to his. Accord- 


46 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


mgly, on the first day of May, Squire set off for 
the Yadkin ; and, as if nothing was to be wanting 
to leave Daniel in perfect loneliness, their only 
dog followed Squire as he started. 

Here, then, Daniel Boone was left entirely alone. 
Here he was a sort of Robinson Crusoe in the wil¬ 
derness—with this difference, that Robinson was 
shipwrecked, and had no choice ; while Boone 
chose the wilderness as his home. He was now 
completely the “man of the woods”—far away, 
hundreds of miles from any white settlement. For 
the first time in his life, according to his own con¬ 
fession, he felt lonely. His mind was filled with 
the remembrance of his wife and children, and the 
thought that he should never see them again. He 
knew, however, that sad thoughts, when indulged 
in, will grow very rapidly, and therefore dismissed 
them. 

For safety’s sake now, he changed his camp 
every night, that he might avoid the Indians. Some¬ 
times he slept in the canebrake ; sometimes he 
laid himself by the side of a stream ; sometimes in 
the caves of the rocks. By day he was surrounded 
by his old companions the buffaloes and deer, and at 
night was not unfrequently disturbed by the howl¬ 
ing of the wolves. He roamed over many a beau¬ 
tiful tract of country. . Now he would ascend a 
hill, and look down upon the scene spread like a 
map before him ; now he would trace some stream 


DANIEL BOONE. 


47 


to its source, or, following the well-tramped roads 
of the buffaloes, would find some spring bubbling 
in the forest. In this way he moved over a 
large part of the country. At one time, he struck 
the Ohio river, and wandered for days on the banks 
of that noble stream. It is said, that in his 
rambles, he one day stood upon the spot where the 
city of Louisville now stands. He learned to love 
the woods more than ever. Long after this, he 
used to declare, that “ no crowded city, with all 
its commerce and noble buildings, could give him 
as much pleasure as the beauty of Kentucky at 
that time afforded him.” 

Fortunately, he met no Indians. At one time 
he came in sight of a roving party, but man¬ 
aged to escape from them. The mode in w'hich 
he escaped will show you his perfect self-posses¬ 
sion. He had stopped one day to rest under the 
shade of a tree, when suddenly he spied the 
party in the distance. This was enough for him. 
He immediately commenced his course through 
the forest, hoping that they had not seen him, and 
therefore would not pursue. From time to time he 
would look back through the woods ; and at length 
became convinced, to his sorrow, that if they had 
not seen him, they had marked his tracks, and 
were now on his trail. He pushed on for more 
than two miles, trying in various ways to break the 
trail, and thus put them out; still, as he looked 


48 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


back, he could see that they were following him. 
He was puzzled to know what to do. A happy 
thought now struck him. He had just passed the 
brow of a small hill; the heavy grape-vines were 
hanging from the trees all around him. He seized 
one of these, and, bracing himself against the tree 
with his feet, threw himself as far as he could. 
This broke the trail, and he now kept directly on 
from the spot where he landed, in a different direc¬ 
tion. The Indians came up, tracking him as far 
as the tree : were then lost, and gave up the chase. 

Another adventure is told of him during his 
lonely wanderings, more perilous even than this. 
One day he heard a strange noise in the woods ; 
he could see nothing, but stood ready with his rifle. 
Presently an immense she-bear was seen approach¬ 
ing him. Surrounded by her young cubs, she was 
doubly fierce. As She came near, Boone levelled 
his rifle and fired. Unfortunately, his steady eye 
failed this time ; the ball did not strike as he 
had aimed, and the animal pressed forward, the 
more enraged. It was impossible to load again: 
the bear was upon him; he had only time to draw 
his hunting-knife from his belt. The bear laid her 
paws on him, and drew him toward her. The rifle 
in his left hand was a sort of guard, while with his 
right he pointed the knife directly for the heart of 
the animal. As she grasped him, the knife entered 
her body, and she fell dead. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


49 


As the time drew near for the return (as he 
hought) of his brother, Boone went back to the 
old camp where they had lodged together, to meet 
him. Here day after day he kept his lookout— 
day after day he was disappointed. He began 
now to be very sad. He did not doubt his broth¬ 
er’s fidelity; he knew he would not desert him ; 
but there were many dangers by the way, and 
perhaps he had perished. Then he thought, 
too, of his wife and little ones. If that brother 
had perished, he likewise must die without seeing 
them. Without ammunition to procure food, or 
defend himself, what could he do ? He must die, 
there in the wilderness. His brother had been 
absent now nearly three months : surely it was 
time for his return. Another day of disappoint¬ 
ment was now drawing to a close, as Boone sat, 
sick at heart, by the door of his cabin. A sound 
broke on his ear ; he rose and stood listening, with 
his hand on the lock of his rifle. It was the tread 
of horses. The next moment he saw his brother 
through the forest leading two horses heavily la¬ 
den. Here was abundance of ammunition and 
other comfort. The evening of the 27th of July 
was long after this remembered by Daniel Boone 
as one of the most joyous of his life. 

A fire was soon made, their supper cooked, and 
long after midnight they sat talking. Thousands 
of questions were asked and answered, until, 
5 


50 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


wearied out, at last they lay down to sleep. The 
sun was high in the heavens when they waked in 
the morning. 

After breakfast, Daniel Boone proposed a new 
plan to his brother. Much as he loved the woods, 
he felt that two men could hardly be safe in the 
neighborhood of so many Indians. Moreover he 
longed to see his family : the stories of Squire 
had called up fresh recollections in his heart. 
The plan therefore was, to select a suitable spot 
for their home, then return to Carolina and bring 
out his family. Squire readily assented to this; 
and now they employed themselves for several 
days in hunting and laying in a supply of provis¬ 
ions. This being done, they went to the Cumber¬ 
land river, and wandered for some time along the 
stream without finding a place to please them. 
Roaming about now, they found many new streams, 
to which, as the first discoverers, they gave names. 
Anxious as they were to return to the Yadkin, 
they were in no such hurry as to neglect making 
a full survey. The whole winter passed away 
before they pleased themselves. At length they 
came upon the Kentucky river. Here the lands 
delighted them. On the banks of this stream they 
determined to make their settlement, and now 
(March, 1771) turned their faces homeward. As 
he left the chosen spot, Boone says that “he felt 
it was a second paradise, and was resolved, at tho 


DANIEL BOONE. 


51 


rsk of his life and fortune, that his family should 
have a home there.” 

As they journeyed eastward from the Kentucky 
river, they occasionally blazed their pathway (as 
huntsmen say) that they might find their way 
back. It was necessary thus to leave some track 
through the forest wilderness, that they might 
again reach their chosen spot.* Fortunately they 
met with no Indians. 

We hear of but one adventure on their way 
homeward. After travelling quietly several days, 
they were one morning startled by a noise. Pres¬ 
ently a herd of buffaloes came rushing and tear¬ 
ing through the forest; they seemed frantic. The 
cause of all this was soon seen. A panther, seated 
upon the back of one of the buffaloes, had plunged 
his claws and teeth into him. The blood was 
streaming down his sides, and the poor animal, 
struggling to shake him off, rushed into the midst 
of the herd. This frightened the rest, and they 
went bellowing and dashing through the woods. 
Daniel Boone raised his rifle, and sent a ball 
through the panther. He fell dead. Not far off 
they met a pack of wolves, following as usual in 

* This mode of marking their track is often practised by 
hunters in the woods. As they pass through the forest, they 
mark the trees by cutting off a small piece of the bark. This 
enables them again to find the same pathway, and is commonly 
called “ blazing the track.” 


52 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


the track of the buffaloes. For the fun of seeing 
them scatter, Squire now fired his rifle, and away 
they went, scampering in all directions. 

In due time they came to the mountains. After 
trying to ascend in various places, at length they 
found a narrow and rugged gap, through which 
with great difficulty they made their way. It was, 
however, the best pass they could discover, and 
they blazed their track, that they might find 
it again. In a little time now, Daniel Boone 
was again in his cabin on the banks of the Yad¬ 
kin. I need hardly say there was a joyous meet¬ 
ing ; he was once more happy in the bosom of his 
family. He had been absent nearly two years. 

Amid the joys of home, however, he did not 
forget his chosen spot in Kentucky; his heart was 
filled with the thought that his happy home might 
be happier there. As this was to be his final 
move, it was necessary to settle all his business 
on the Yadkin ; and as he had tried the wilder¬ 
ness, he felt that a few trusty companions would 
be invaluable in that new region. He com¬ 
menced, therefore, making what he thought proper 
preparations for a return. To beat up such neigh¬ 
bors as they desired, he and Squire gave glowing 
accounts of the new country ; the rich lands, the 
forests, the streams, the flowers, and the game, 
were all talked of. They saw only, and conse¬ 
quently spoke only, of the bright side of the pic- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


53 


ture. But there were numbers of people to talk 
of difficulties ; these spoke of the folly of the 
Boones, in thinking of making such a country 
their home, and the madness of any man who 
should think of following them ; the country was 
wild, and all who settled there must suffer many 
privations : then, too (according to their story), it 
was afflicted with terrible diseases, and they might 
all expect to die there, or, if they escaped the 
climate, they must fall into the hands of the fierce 
and cruel Indians who roamed through those for¬ 
ests ; the place they declared was so dangerous 
that it was known, wherever it was known, as 
“ the dark and bloody ground.” With these sad 
stories floating about continually, it is not wonder¬ 
ful that the Boones found difficulty in beating up 
companions, and that more than two years passed 
away before they were ready for a start. At the 
end of that time they found that, while many were 
opposed to them, and others wavering as to what 
they would do, there were some, prompted by a 
spirit of bold adventure, ready to join them. Five 
families were willing to go with them to Ken¬ 
tucky. 

Daniel Boone now sold his farm, and all things 
being made ready, on the 25th of September, 1773, 
the little company bade farewell to their friends 
and started for the west, driving before them their 
flocks and their herds. In their route, not a great 
5* 


54 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


■way from the Yadkin, was the settlement of Pow- 
el’s valley. The story of their plan had spread 
through the neighborhood, and when they reached 
this spot they were delighted to find that the peo¬ 
ple were not so timid as those on the Yadkin: 
forty men here joined the party. Now they trav¬ 
elled on in high spirits ; the whole body, old and 
young, numbering between seventy and eighty 
souls. 

In a little time they came to the mountains, and 
found the pathway blazed by the Boones. In less 
than a fortnight they passed the first ridge of the 
Alleganies, known as “ Powel’s range,” and were 
now quietly descending the second, known as 
“ Walden’s range,” when sorrow overtook them. 
They were in a dark and narrow gap, when the 
wild yell of Indians broke upon their ears. The 
savages rushed into the gap behind them, and let 
fly their arrows. Six of the party fell dead, a 
seventh was wounded. The men rallied around 
the women and children; the first discharge of 
their rifles scattered the savages. But the mis¬ 
chief was done ; the sudden attack of the Indians 
was like a flash of lightning ; they were seen 
only for an instant; yet, like the lightning, they 
had done their work : there were the dead, and 
alas ! among them was the oldest son of Daniel 
Boone 

The party, a little time before so happy, was 


DANIEL BOONE. 


55 


now in deep sorrow. What was to be done ? 
The Indians had not only killed their companions, 
but their flocks and herds had all fled in fright, 
and could not be again gathered together. In 
dismay, the greater part were for retreating in¬ 
stantly to the nearest white settlement; this was 
upon the Clinch river, forty miles behind them. 
The Boones begged them to keep on their way— 
not to think of turning back; but it was all to no 
purpose ; most of them insisted on retreating, and 
they at length yielded to the general desire. Ac¬ 
cordingly, the dead were decently buried, and in 
great sadness they all traced their way back to 
Clinch river. 

Here Daniel Boone remained with his family 
eight months. At the end of that time he was 
requested by Governor Dunmore, of Virginia, to 
go to the falls of the Ohio, to serve as a guide to 
a party of surveyors who had been sent there 
some months before. The western country was 
now beginning to attract attention, and the Indians 
were becoming very hostile to the whites. Ac¬ 
cordingly, on the 6th of June, 1774, he started 
(with one man, Michael Stoner), and without any 
accident reached the point at which he aimed— 
the spot where Louisville now stands. The ser¬ 
vice for the surveyors was promptly performed, 
and they were enabled to complete their work, 
while Boone was at liberty to return to his fam- 


56 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


ily. It is remarkable that he made this journey on 
foot, a distance of eight hundred miles, through a 
trackless wilderness, in the short period of sixty- 
two days. 

He was not allowed to remain quiet long; soon 
after his return, the Indians northwest of the Ohio, 
especially the Shawanese, made open war upon 
the whites. Governor Dunmore felt bound to 
protect his countrymen, and, among other acts 
for their defence, sent Daniel Boone, with the title 
of captain, to take command of three garrisons. 
This service was likewise well performed; mat¬ 
ters were soon more quiet, the soldiers were dis¬ 
charged, and Boone was relieved from his post. 

He had not been a wanderer in the woods in 
vain; his fame had gone abroad, and his services 
were in the following spring sought again. A 
company of gentlemen in North Carolina—the 
principal man of whom was Colonel Richard Hen¬ 
derson—were attempting to purchase the lands on 
the south side of the Kentucky river, from the 
Cherokee Indians.* They had agreed to hold a 
treaty with the Indians, at Wataga, in March, 
1775, to settle the boundaries of their intended 
purchase, and they now desired Boone to attend 
that treaty, and manage their business. In com¬ 
pliance with their wish, he went to Wataga, and 

* It is said that it was by Daniel Boone’s advice that they 
first thought of making this purchase. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


57 


performed their service so well, that they gave him 
further employment. He was now requested to 
mark out a road from their settlement, through the 
wilderness, to Kentucky river. This was a work 
of great labor. It was necessary to make many 
surveys to find the best route, and when the best 
was found, it was, much of it, over mountains 
and rugged regions. With a number of laborers, 
he commenced the work. He met with two at¬ 
tacks from the Indians by the way, in which four 
of his men were killed, and five wounded. Un¬ 
daunted, he pushed resolutely on, and, in the 
month of April, reached the Kentucky river. To 
guard themselves from the savages, they immedi¬ 
ately commenced the building of a fort at a salt 
lick, about sixty yards from the south bank of the 
stream. The Indians annoyed them from time to 
time, while they were thus engaged, but fortu¬ 
nately killed but one man. On the 14th day of 
June the fort was finished, and Boone started 
back for his family on Clinch river. As an honor 
to him, the party gave to this first settlement in 
the wilderness of Kentucky the name of Boones- 
borough. 

He reached his family without accident, and, as 
rapidly as he could, retraced his way with them 
through the forest. The fort consisted of several 
cabins, surrounded by pickets ten feet high, plant¬ 
ed firmly in the ground. In one of these, Daniel 


58 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Boone found a shelter for his family. The long 
desire of his heart was at last gratified : he had a 
home in Kentucky. He was the first settler of 
that region, and (as he proudly said) his “ wife 
and daughter the first white women that ever 
stood on the banks of Kentucky river.” 


DANIEL BOONE. 


59 


CHAPTER IV. 



T was now the season of 
autumn ; the trees had not yet 
shed their leaves, and the for¬ 
ests were still beautiful. Mrs. 
Boone felt happy as she look¬ 
ed upon her new home. Win¬ 
ter came, and glided rapidly 
and joyously away. With 
their axes and rifles, the men in the 
settlement brought in constant and 
ample supplies of fuel and game, 
and around the blazing hearth of 
Daniel Boone there was not one in the 
family who sighed for the old home on 
the Yadkin. Boone naturally supposed 
that a fear of the Indians would be the 
principal trouble with his wife ; and well she 
might dread them, remembering the loss of her 
son formerly in the pass of the mountains. For¬ 
tunately, however, she did not see an Indian 
through the season. But one white man was 
killed by them during the winter, and he lost his 


60 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


life by unfortunately wandering away from the 
fort unarmed. After this, the other settlers were 
more prudent; they never went without the pick 
ets for fuel without taking their rifles. 

When spring opened, they were soon very busy. 
A small clearing without the pickets was first 
made for a garden-spot. Mrs. Boone and her 
daughter brought out their stock of garden-seeds, 
and commenced cultivating this, while the men 
went on earnestly in the work of preparing for 
their fields. They were calculating that they 
were making their homes for life. Day after day 
the neighborhood resounded with the crash of fall¬ 
ing trees, as these hardy men levelled the forests. 
While they were thus engaged, they were made 
happy by a new arrival. Colonel Calloway, an 
old companion of Boone’s, led by the desire of 
finding his old friend and a new country, came out 
to the settlement this spring, and brought with him 
his two young daughters. Here, then, were com¬ 
panions for Boone’s daughter. The fathers were 
happy, and the mother and girls delighted. 

Spring had not passed away, however, before 
they were in sorrow about these children. When 
the wild flowers began to bloom in the woods, 
the girls were in the habit of strolling around the 
fort and gathering them to adorn their humble 
homes. This was an innocent and pleasant occu¬ 
pation ; it pleased the girls as well as their parents. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


61 


They were only cautioned not to wander far, for 
fear of the Indians. This caution, it seems, was 
forgotten. Near the close of a beautiful day in 
July, they were wandering, as usual, and the 
bright flowers tempted them to stroll thoughtlessly 
onward. Indians were in ambush; they were 
suddenly surrounded, seized, and hurried away, in 
spite of their screams for help. They were car¬ 
ried by their captors to the main body of the In¬ 
dian party, some miles distant. Night came, and 
the girls did not return; search was made for 
them, and they were nowhere to be found. The 
thought now flashed upon Boone that the children 
were prisoners ; the Indians had captured them. 
The parents were well nigh frantic : possibly the 
girls were murdered. Boone declared that he 
would recover his child, if alive, if he lost his own 
life in the effort. The whole settlement was at 
once roused : every man offered to start off with 
the two fathers in search of the children. But 
Boone would not have them all; some must re¬ 
main behind, to protect the settlement. Of the 
whole number he chose seven ; he and Calloway 
headed them; and, in less time than I have been 
telling the story, laden with their knapsacks and 
rifles, they were off in pursuit. 

Which way were they to go ? It was a long 
time before they could find a track of the party. 
The wily Indians, as usual, had used all their cun- 
6 


62 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


ning in hiding their footprints and breaking their 
trail. Covering their tracks with leaves ; walking 
at right angles occasionally from the main path ; 
crossing brooks by walking in them for some time, 
and leaving them at a point far from where they 
entered : all this had been practised, and I pre¬ 
sume that the fathers never would have got on the 
track if the girls had not been as cunning as their 
captors. After wandering about for some time, 
they came at length to a brook, and waded along it 
for a great while in search of footprints. They 
looked faithfully far up and down the stream, for 
they knew the Indian stratagem. Presently Cal¬ 
loway leaped up for joy. “ God bless my child !” 
cried he ; “ they have gone this way.” He had 
picked up a little piece of riband which one of 
his daughters had dropped, purposely to mark the 
trail. Now they were on the track. Travelling 
on as rapidly as they could, from time to time they 
picked up shreds of handkerchiefs, or fragments 
of their dresses, that the girls had scattered by 
the way. Before the next day ended, they were 
still more clearly on the track. They reached a 
soft, muddy piece of ground, and found all the 
footprints of the party; they were now able to tell 
the number of the Indians. The close of the next 
day brought them still nearer to the objects of 
their search. Night had set in ; they were still 
wandering on, when, upon reaching a small hill, 


DANIEL BOONE. 


63 


they saw a camp-fire in the distance. They were 
now delighted ; this surely was the party that had 
captured the girls. Everything was left to the 
management of Boone. He brought his men as 
near the fire as he dared approach, and sheltered 
them from observation under the brow of a hill. 
Calloway and another man were then selected 
from the group ; the rest were told that they might 
go to sleep : they were, however, to sleep on their 
arms, ready to start instantly at a given signal. 
Calloway was to go with Boone ; the other man 
was stationed on the top of the hill, to give the 
alarm, if necessary. The two parents now crept 
cautiously onward to a covert of bushes not far 
from the fire. Looking through, they saw fifteen or 
twenty Indians fast asleep in the camp ; but where 
were the girls 1 Crawling to another spot, they 
pushed the bushes cautiously aside, and, to their 
great joy, saw in another camp the daughters 
sleeping in each other’s arms. Two Indians 
with their tomahawks guarded this camp. One 
seemed to be asleep. They crept gently around 
in the rear of this. They were afraid to use 
their rifles : the report would wake the other 
•camp. Calloway was to stand ready to shoot the 
•sleeping Indian if he stirred, while Boone was tc 
creep behind the other, seize, and strangle him. 
They were then to hurry off with the children. 
Unfortunately, they calculated wrong: the Indian 


64 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


whom they supposed to be sleeping was wide 
awake, and, as Boone drew near, his shadow was 
seen by this man. He sprang up, and the woods 
rang with his yell. The other camp was roused; 
the Indians came rushing to this. Boone’s first 
impulse was to use his rifle, but Calloway’s pru¬ 
dence restrained him. Had he fired, it would have 
been certain destruction to parents and children. 
They surrendered themselves prisoners, pleading 
earnestly at the same time for their captive daugh¬ 
ters. The Indians bound them with cords, placed 
guards over them, and then retired to their camp. 
The poor girls, roused by the tumult, now saw 
their parents in this pitiable condition. Here they 
were, likewise made captives, for their love of 
them. 

There was no more sleep in the Indian camp 
that night. Till the dawn of the day they were talk¬ 
ing of what should be done to the new prisoners: 
some were for burning them at the stake ; others 
objected to this. Boone and Calloway were to be 
killed, but they were too brave to be killed in this 
way. Some proposed making them run the gaunt¬ 
let. At last it was decided (in pity for the girls, it 
is said) that the parents should be killed in a more 
decent and quiet way. They were to be toma¬ 
hawked and scalped, and the girls were still to be 
kept prisoners. With the morning’s light they 
started out to execute the sentence. That the 


DANIEL BOONE. 


65 


pojr girls might not see their parents murdered 
the men were led off to the woods, and there lashed 
to two trees. Two of the savages stood before 
them with their tomahawks, while the rest were 
singing and dancing around them. At length the 
tomahawks were lifted to strike them; at that instant 
the crack of rifles was heard, and the two Indians 
fell dead. Another and another report was heard: 
others fell, and the rest fled in dismay. Boone’s 
companions had saved them. All night long they 
had waited for the signal: none had been given ; 
they had heard the Indian yell; they feared that 
they were taken. They had watched the camp 
with the greatest anxiety, and now had delivered 
them. They were instantly untied ; the girls were 
quickly released, and in the arms of their parents ; 
and they all started joyously homeward. Mrs. 
Boone was delighted to see them. The party had 
been so long gone, that she feared her husband 
and child were alike lost to her for ever. 

It is not surprising that when men found out that 
a settlement had been made in Kentucky, others 
were soon ready to start off for that fertile region. 
Accordingly, we find many arriving this year, and 
settling themselves in the country. Harrod, Lo¬ 
gan, Ray, Wagin, Bowman, and many other fear¬ 
less spirits, now threw themselves, like Boone, 
into the heart of the wilderness, and made their 
forts, or stations, as they were called. These 
6 * 


66 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


were just like the home of Boone—nothing more 
than a few log cabins, surrounded by pickets. In¬ 
deed, the country began now to assume so much 
importance in the eyes of men, that the Governor 
of Virginia thought proper to take some notice 
of it. When the legislature met, he recommended 
that the southwestern part of the county of Fin- 
castle—which meant all the large tract of country 
west of the Alleganies now known as Kentucky 
—should be made into a separate county, by the 
name of Kentucky. The legislature thought it 
well to follow his advice. The new county was 
made, and had the privilege of sending two mem¬ 
bers to the Virginia legislature. 

Nor is it surprising that the Indians began now 
to be more violent than ever in their enmity. They 
had been unwilling before that a white man should 
cross their path as they roamed over their hunting- 
grounds ; but now, when they saw clearings made, 
and houses built, they felt that the whites meant 
to drive them for ever from that region. Their 
hatred consequently increased now every hour. 
Another circumstance at this time served to 
rouse them the more against the settlers. If 
you will think of the period of which I am 
speaking (the year 1776), perhaps you may guess 
what it was. The colonists of America in that 
year, you will remember, declared themselves in¬ 
dependent of Great Britain. In the war which 


DANIEL BOONE. 


67 


followed (known among us always as the Revolu¬ 
tionary War), England struggled hard to subdue 
them ; nor was she always choice as to the means 
which she used for the purpose. She did not hes¬ 
itate even to rouse the red men of the forests, and 
give them arms to fight the colonists. They were 
not only turned loose upon them with their own 
tomahawks and scalping-knives, but were well 
supplied with British rifles and balls. All the new 
settlements in the land were troubled with them, 
and Kentucky had to bear her part of the sorrow. 
These Indians would scatter themselves in small 
parties, and hang secretly for days and nights 
around the infant stations. Until one is acquaint¬ 
ed with Indian stratagems, he can hardly tell how 
cunning these people are. By day they would 
hide themselves in the grass, or behind the stumps 
of trees, near the pathways to the fields or springs 
of water, and it was certain death to the white 
man who travelled that way. At night they would 
creep up to the very gateway of the pickets, and 
watch for hours for a white man. If any part of 
his person was exposed, he was sure to catch a 
rifle-ball. It was impossible to discover them, 
even when their mischief was done. They would 
lie in the grass flat on their bellies for days, al¬ 
most under the very palisades. Sometimes an In¬ 
dian yell would be heard near one point of the fort, 
startling all the settlers—a yell raised only to draw 


68 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


them all in one direction, while the Indians did 
their mischief in another In this sneaking mode 
of warfare, men, women, and children, were killed 
in many places ; and not unfrequently whole droves 
of cattle were cut off. 

At length, to the great joy of the settlers, the 
Indians began to show themselves more boldly: 
for anything was better than these secret ambushes 
of the savages; an open enemy is not so much to 
be dreaded as a secret one. Boonesborough and 
Harrodsburgh (a settlement made by James Har- 
rod, a bold adventurer from the banks of the Mo- 
nongahela) were now the principal stations. Tow¬ 
ard these, new emigrants were from time to time 
moving, and against these stations, as being the 
strongest, the Indians felt the greatest hatred, and 
directed their principal attacks. Early in the 
spring of 1777, a party was moving toward Har¬ 
rodsburgh : fortunately, the Indians attacked them; 
for, though two whites were killed, the attack 
probably saved the settlement. It was only four 
miles from the place, and the Indians were now 
on their way there. One young man escaped in 
the midst of the fight to give the alarm at Harrods¬ 
burgh. The station was instantly put in a state 
of defence. Ere long, the Indians appeared. A 
brisk firing at once commenced on both sides ; the 
savages saw one of their men fall, and finding that 
they were not likely to gain any advantage, soon 


DANIEL BOONE. 


69 


scattered for the woods. The whites lost one man 
also, and three were slightly wounded. 

On the 15th of April, a party of one hundred 
savages appeared boldly before Boonesborough. 
Every man of them was armed with his gun, as 
well as bow and arrows. Boone, however, was 
prepared for them, and gave them a warm recep¬ 
tion—so warm, that they soon gladly retreated. 
How many of their men were killed it was im¬ 
possible to tell, for they dragged away their dead 
with them. In the fort one man was killed, and 
four were badly wounded. 

Their loss this time only served to make them 
more revengeful. In July following they again 
came against Boonesborough, resolved upon ven¬ 
geance. They numbered this time more than two 
hundred. To prevent any of the white settlements 
from sending aid to Boonesborough, they had sent 
off small parties to molest them, and keep them 
busy. The savages now commenced their attack, 
and for two days a constant firing was kept up. 
At last, finding their efforts again idle, they raised 
a loud yell, and returned to the forests. The 
whites could now count their slain and wounded 
as they dragged them off: seven were killed, and 
numbers wounded, while in the fort only one white 
man was slain. In spite of their numbers and 
their cunning, they did but little harm : for Boone 
was never found sleeping ; he knew that Indians 


70 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


were his neighbors, and he was always ready for 
them. After this, they learned to dread him more 
than ever. He now went by the name of the 
“ Great Long Knife.” 

Attacks of this kind were made from time to 
time openly against the settlements, but especially 
against these two * principal stations. They all 
ended very much in the same way, and it would 
only weary you if I should attempt to speak of 
them. It is enough for you to know that the 
whites were always on the lookout, and that 
Boone was regarded as their principal leader and 
protector. We will pass on, therefore, to some¬ 
thing more interesting. 

I have already stated that the stations of these 
settlers were usually built, for comfort’s sake, in 
the neighborhood of salt licks or springs ; and near 
such a lick, as you will remember, Boonesborough 
stood. The supply of salt, however, was not suf¬ 
ficient ; new settlers were often arriving, and it 
became necessary to seek a place which would 
afford more of that article. Boone was the father 
of the settlement, and he undertook to find it. 
Having selected thirty men as his companions, on 
the 1st of January, 1778, he started for the Blue 
Licks, on Licking river—a stream, as you know, 
emptying itself into the Ohio opposite where Cin¬ 
cinnati now stands. Upon reaching this spot, the 
thirty men were soon very busy in making salt. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


71 


Boone, having no taste for the work, sauntered off 
to employ himself in shooting game for the com¬ 
pany. He had wandered some distance from the 
river one day, when suddenly he came upon two 
Indians armed with muskets. It was impossible for 
him to retreat, and the chances were against him v« 
if he stood. His usual coolness did not forsake 
him ; he instantly jumped behind a tree. As the 
Indians came within gun-shot, he exposed himself 
on the side of the tree: one savage immediately 
fired, and Boone dodged the ball. One shot was 
thus thrown away, and this was just what he de¬ 
sired. Exposing himself immediately in precisely 
the same way, the other musket was discharged 
by the other Indian, to as little purpose. He now 
stepped boldly out; the Indians were trying hard 
to load again ; he raised his rifle, and one savage 
fell dead. He was now on equal terms with the 
other. Drawing his hunting-knife, he leaped for¬ 
ward and placed his foot upon the body of the dead 
Indian ; the other raised his tomahawk to strike ; 
but Boone, with his rifle in his left hand, warded 
off the blow, while with his right he plunged his 
knife into the heart of the savage. His two foes 
lay dead before him. If you should ever visit 
Washington city, you will see a memorial of this 
deed. The act is in sculpture, over the southern 
door of the rotundo of the capitol. 

After this he continued his hunting excursions, 


72 


JOHN SMITH. 


chief, until due preparations had been made 
for receiving him. All being ready, he at 
length came before Powhatan. In a long hut, 
in the midst of which there was a large fire, he 
found him seated upon a sort of throne, while 
his two young daughters sat on either side of 
him. He was dressed in a heavy robe of rac¬ 
coon skins. On each side of the hut there were 
two rows of men, and behind them as many 
women, with their heads and shoulders painted 
red. Some had their heads decked off with the 
white down of birds, and some had strings of 
white beads around their necks. When Smith 
came in, they all gave a great shout. The 
queen of Apamatox brought him water to wash 
his hands—while another damsel brought him a 
bunch of feathers, to serve as a tow T el to dry 
them. After this, they feasted him with their 
best provisions, and then they consulted among 
themselves, as to what should be done with him 
Smith soon understood his fate, when, at the 
end of this consultation, two large stones were 
brought in, placed before Powhatan, and he 
seized and dragged toward them. His head 
was laid upon them, and now the savages raised 
their clubs to beat out his brains. The king’s 
daughter, Pocahontas , (it seems,) had entreated 


JOHN SMITH. 


73 


that his life might be spared, hut all her en¬ 
treaties had proved useless. Just at this mo¬ 
ment, she rushed toward the captive, folded his 
head in her arms, and laid her own upon it. In 
an instant more, poor Smith would have been 
despatched. The king’s heart was now soften¬ 
ed : he consented that the prisoner should live, 
to make hatchets for him, and bells and beads 
for his daughter. 

Whether farther entreaties of Pocahontas pre¬ 
vailed Or not, we are not told; but certain it is, 
that in a little time the king was even more 
generous to the prisoner. Two days after this, 
he caused Smith to be carried to “ a great house 
in the woods,” and there to be left, seated alone 
apcn a mat, before a large fire. “ Not long 
•iftc;, from behind a mat. that divided the house, 
vzs made the most doleful noise he ever heard 
and in rushed Powhatan, painted black, and 
disguised “in a fearful manner,” followed by 
two hundred other savages, as black as him¬ 
self. The chief now told him that they were 
friends, and that he might return to Jamestown. 
He had but one favor to ask of him, which was, 
that he would send him “ two great guns, and 
a grindstone,” and he promised, in return, to 
“give him the country of Capahowosick , and 
7 


74 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


hands a long white staff, ornamented with deers* 
tails. The chief of the party then raised a yell, 
and all the warriors from the village answered it, 
and soon made their appearance. Four young 
warriors commenced singing as they came toward 
him. The two first, each bearing a calumet, took 
him by the arms and marched him to a cabin in 
the village; here he was to remain until his fate 
was made known to him. Of all strange customs 
of the Indians (and he had seen many of them), 
this was the strangest to him. It is not wonder¬ 
ful that he thought he was now to die. 

Yet this was a common custom (it is said) among 
the Shawanese, who inhabited this village. Pris¬ 
oners were often thus carried to some cabin, and 
then the Indian living in the cabin decided what 
should be done—whether the prisoner should die, 
or be adopted into the tribe. It happened that in 
this cabin lived an old Indian woman, who had 
lately lost a son in battle. She, of course, was to 
decide Boone’s fate. She looked at him earnestly, 
admired his noble bearing and cheerful face, and 
at length declared that he should live. Fie should 
be her son, she said; he should be to her the son 
whom she had lost. The young warriors instantly 
announced to him his fate, and the fact was soon 
proclaimed through the village. Food was brought 
out and set before him ; and every effort, which In¬ 
dian love could think of, was used to make him 


DANIEL LOONE. 


75 


happy. He was fairly one of the tribe; and the 
old woman who was to be his mothefwas espe¬ 
cially delighted. 

He was now as free as the rest; his only sor¬ 
row was that he had to live among them. He 
knew, too, that if he should be caught trying to 
make his escape, it would be certain death to him. 
He pretended, therefore, to be cheerful and hap¬ 
py ; and fortunately his old habits enabled him to 
play his part well. Like them, he was a man of 
the woods, and as fond of hunting as any of them. 
They all soon became attached to him, and treated 
him with the utmost confidence. 

Sometimes large parties would go out to try 
their skill at their sports of racing and shooting at 
a mark. Boone was always with them ; he knew, 
however, that in trials of this kind the Indians 
were always jealous if they were beaten, and 
therefore he had to act very prudently. At racing, 
they could excel him ; but at shooting, he was 
more than a match for any of them. Still, when 
the target was set up, he was always certain to be 
beaten. If he shot too well, they would be jeal¬ 
ous and angry; if he shot badly, they would hold 
him in contempt: and therefore he would manage 
to make good shots, and yet never be the success¬ 
ful man. He knew too much of Indians not to 
conduct himself properly. 

Sometimes they would start out upon hunting- 


76 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


parties. Here Boone was at home ; there was no 
jealousy when he brought down a buffalo or a deer 
with his rifle-ball. He might do his best; they 
were true hunters themselves, and were delighted 
with every successful shot. Returning to the vil¬ 
lage, Boone would always visit the Shawanese 
chief, and present him a portion of his game. By 
this kindness and civility he completely won the 
heart of the chief, and was not unfrequently consult¬ 
ed by him on important matters. Thus he passed 
his time, joining in all their modes of living; he 
was beloved by the old woman, the chief, and all 
the tribe : and none suspected that he was not 
contented and happy. 

On the 1st of June, a large party was starting 
from the village for the salt-licks on the Scioto, to 
make salt. Boone pretended to be indifferent 
whether he went or not. The truth was, how¬ 
ever, that he was very anxious to go, for he thought 
it would afford a fine opportunity for him to escape. 
He seemed so indifferent about the matter, that the 
party urged him to accompany them, and off he 
started. For ten days most of them were busy 
making salt, while Boone and two or three of the 
best marksmen hunted for the benefit of the rest. 
He watched his chance for escape, but none oc¬ 
curred ; he was closely observed ; it was impossi¬ 
ble for him to attempt it. To his great sorrow, he 
was forced to return home with the salt-makers. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


77 


They had scarcely got back, when the whole 
village was summoned to the council-hcuse, to at¬ 
tend a council of war. Boone, as belonging to 
one of the principal families, went to this council. 
Here he met four hundred and fifty armed Indians, 
all gayly painted. One of the oldest warriors then 
struck a large drum, and marched with the war- 
standard three times round the council-house : this 
was the sure signal that they were about to make 
■war upon some enemy. But who was the enemy ? 
What was Boone’s surprise when it was announced 
that they meant to attack Boonesborough ! He re¬ 
solved now that he would escape, even at every 
hazard, and alarm the settlement. Still his pru¬ 
dence did not forsake him. 

The old warriors at once commenced gathering 
together a supply of parched corn, and beating up 
more recruits for the expedition. All the new 
men (Boone among the rest, for he was forced to 
join them) were then marched off to the “ winter- 
house” to drink the war-drink. This was a mix¬ 
ture of water and bitter herbs and roots, and was 
to be drank steadily for three days, during which 
time no man was to eat a morsel. Even if a deer 
or buffalo passed by, no man was to kill it; the fast 
must be kept. In fact, no man was allowed even 
to sit down, or rest himself by leaning against a 
tree. This was done by the old men to purify 
the young warriors, as they said, and to gain the 
7 * 


78 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


favor of the Great Spirit. All this was a common 
practice with the tribe before they went to battle ; 
and the more strictly the fast was kept, the greater 
(as they supposed) were the chances of success. 
During these three days, Boone, like the rest, kept 
the fast, drank the war-drink, and did not even 
leave the “ medicine-ground.” 

The fast being over, they fired, their guns, 
yelled, danced, and sang; and in the midst of this 
noise the march commenced. The leading war- 
chief, bearing the medicine-bag, or budget (as it 
was called), went before ; the rest followed in 
single file. Nothing but shouting and yelling, and 
the noise of guns, was heard, as they passed 
through the village. When they reached the 
woods, all the noise ceased ; they were fairly on 
their march, and that march was to be made after 
the Indian fashion, in dead silence. For several 
days this dead march was kept up, Boone looking 
every hour for his chance of escape. At length, 
early one morning, a deer dashed by the line. 
Boone leaped eagerly after him, and started in 
pursuit. No sooner was he out of sight of the 
Indians, than he pressed for Boonesborough. He 
knew they would give chase, and therefore he 
doubled his track, waded in streams, and did every¬ 
thing that he could to throw them off his trail. 
Every sound startled him ; he thought the Indians 
were behind him. With no food but roots and 


DANIHT RHONE 


79 


berries, and scarcely time to devour these, he 
pushed through swamps and thickets for his old 
home. Now or never was his chance for liberty, 
and as such he used it. At length, after wan¬ 
dering nearly two hundred miles, on the fourth day 
he reached Boonesborough in safety. 


80 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


CHAPTER Y. 



EFORE we go on, let me 
tell you of some of the cu¬ 
rious customs which Boone 
noticed among the Indians, 
during his captivity. He had 
a fine opportunity for observa¬ 
tion, and I think these strange 
customs will interest you. 

It is not wonderful that Indian 
men and women are so hardy; they 
are trained to it from their youth: 
and Boone tells us how they are 
trained. When a child is only eight 
years old, this training commences ; he 
is then made to fast frequently half a 
day; when he is twelve, he is made to 
fast a whole day. During the time of this fast, 
the child is left alone, and his face is always 
blacked. This mode of hardening them is kept 
up with girls until they are fourteen—with boys 
until they are eighteen. At length, when a boy 



DANIEL BOONE. 


81 


has reached the age of eighteen, his parents tell 
him that his education is completed, and that he is 
old enough to be a man. His face is now to be 
blacked for the last time. He is taken to a soli¬ 
tary cabin far away from the village ; his face is 
blacked, and then his father makes to him a 
speech of this kind : “ My son, the Great Spirit 
has allowed you to live to see this day. We have 
all noticed your conduct since I first began to 
black your face. All people will understand wheth¬ 
er you have followed your father’s advice, and 
they will treat you accordingly. You must now 
remain here until I come after you.” The lad is 
then left alone. His father then goes off hunting, 
as though nothing had happened, and leaves his 
boy to bear his hunger as long it is possible for 
him to starve and live. At length he prepares a 
great feast, gathers his friends together, and then 
returns. The lad is then brought home, his face 
is washed in cold water, his hair is shaved, leav¬ 
ing nothing but the scalp-lock ; they all commence 
eating, but the food of the lad is placed before him 
in a separate dish. This being over, a looking- 
glass and a bag of paint are then presented to him. 
Then they all praise him for his firmness, and tell 
him that he is a man. Strange as it may seem, a 
boy is hardly ever known to break his fast when 
he is blacked this way for the last time. It is 
looked upon as something base, and they have a 


82 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


dread that the Great Spirit will punish them if 
they are disobedient to their parents. 

Another curious habit which surprised Boone 
was that of continually changing names. A white 
man carries the same name from the cradle to the 
grave, but among these people it was very differ¬ 
ent. Their principal arms, as you know, are the 
tomahawk and scalping-knife, and he who can 
take the greatest number of scalps is the greatest 
man. From time to time, as warriors would re¬ 
turn from an attack upon some enemy, these new 
names would begin to be known. Each man 
would count the number of scalps he had taken, 
and a certain number entitled him to a new name, 
in token of his bravery. It is not wonderful that 
they were revengeful, when they were stimulated 
by this sort of ambition. Besides this, they be¬ 
lieved that he who took the scalp of a brave man 
received at once all his courage and other good 
qualities ; and this made them more eager irl their 
thirst for scalps. In this way, names of warriors 
were sometimes changed three or four times in a 
year. 

Marriages in this tribe were conducted very de¬ 
cently. When a young warrior desired to marry, 
he assembled all his friends, and named the wo¬ 
man whom he wished for his wife. His relations 
then received his present, and took it to the parents 
of the young woman. If they were pleased with 


DANIEL BOONE. 


83 


the proposal, they would dress the young woman 
in her gayest clothes, and take her, with bundles 
of presents, to the friends of the warrior; then, if 
she pleased, she was to be married. There was 
no compulsion in the matter. If she was not sat¬ 
isfied, she had only to return his present to the 
young warrior, and this was considered a refusal. 

Their mode of burying their dead was very 
much like that of all the Indians. The dead body 
was sometimes placed in a pen made of sticks and 
covered over with bark ; sometimes it was placed 
in a grave, and covered first with bark, and then 
with dirt; and sometimes, especially in the case 
of the young, it was placed in a rude coffin, and 
suspended from the top of a tree. This last was 
a common mode of infant burial, and the mother 
of the child would often be found, long after, 
standing under the tree, and singing songs to her 
babe. 

Boone witnessed, too, the mode in which war- 
parties start off for war. The budget, or medicine- 
bag, is first made up. This bag contains some¬ 
thing belonging to each man of the party—some¬ 
thing usually representing some animal, such as 
the skin of a snake, the tail of a buffalo, the horns 
of a buck, or the feathers of a bird. It is always 
regarded as a very sacred thing. The leader of 
the party goes before with this; the rest follow in 
single file. When they come to a stand, the 


84 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


budget is laid down in front, and no man may 
pass it without permission. To keep their thoughts 
upon the enterprise in which they are engaged, no 
man is allowed to talk of women or his home. At 
night, when they encamp, the heart of whatever 
animal has been killed during the day is cut into 
small pieces and then burnt. During the burning 
no man is allowed to step across the fire, but must 
always walk around it in the direction of the sun. 
When they spy the enemy, and the attack is to be 
made, the war-budget is opened. Each man takes 
out his budget, or totem , and fastens it to his 
body. After the fight, each man again returns his 
totem to the leader. They are all again tied up, 
and given to the man who has taken the first 
scalp. He then leads the party in triumph home. 

Boone had not long been a prisoner among them 
when a successful war-party returned home and 
celebrated their victory. When the party came 
within a day’s march of the village, a messenger 
was sent in to tell of their success. An order 
was instantly issued that every cabin should be 
swept clean, and the women as quickly commenced 
the work. When they had finished, the cabins 
were all inspected, to see if they were in proper 
order. Next day the party approached the village. 
They were all frightfully painted, and each man 
had a bunch of white feathers on his head. They 
were marching in single file, the chief of the party 


DANIEL BOONE. 


85 


leading the way, bearing in one hand a branch of 
cedar, laden with the scalps they had taken, and 
all chanting their war-song. As they entered the 
village, the chief led the way to the war-pole, 
which stood in front of the council-house. In this 
house the council-fire was then burning. The 
waiter, or Etissu of the leader, then fixed two 
blocks of wood near the war-pole, and placed up¬ 
on them a kind of ark, which was regarded by 
them as one of their most sacred things. The 
chief now ordered that all should sit down. He 
then inquired whether his cabin was prepared, and 
everything made ready, according to the custom 
of his fathers. They then rose up and commenced 
the war-whoop, as they marched round the war- 
pole. The ark was then taken and carried with 
great solemnity into the council-house, and here 
the whole party remained three days and nights, 
separate from the rest of the people. Their first 
business now was to wash themselves clean, and 
sprinkle themselves with a mixture of bitter herbs. 
While they were thus in the house, all their fe¬ 
male relatives, after having bathed and dressed 
themselves in their finest clothes, placed them¬ 
selves in two lines facing each other on each side 
of the door. Here they continued singing a slow mo¬ 
notonous song all day and night; the song was kept 
up steadily for one minute, with intervals of ten 
minutes of dead silence between. About once in 
8 


86 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


three hours the chief would march out at the head of 
his warriors, raise the war-whoop, and pass around 
the war-pole, bearing his branch of cedar. This 
was all that was done for the whole three days and 
nights. At length the purification was ended, and 
upon each of their cabins was placed a twig of the 
cedar with a fragment of the scalps fastened to it, 
to satisfy the ghosts of their departed friends. All 
were now quiet as usual, except the leader of the 
party and his waiter, who kept up the purification 
three days and nights longer. When he had fin¬ 
ished, the budget was hung up before his door for 
thirty or forty days, and from time to time Indians 
of the party would be seen singing and dancing 
before it. When Boone asked the meaning of all 
this strange ceremony, they answered him by a 
word which he says meant holy. 

As this party had brought in no prisoners, he 
did not now witness their horrible mode of torture. 
Before he left them, however, he saw enough of 
their awful cruelty in this way. Sometimes the 
poor prisoner would be tied to a stake, a pile of 
green wood placed around him, fire applied, and 
the poor wretch left to his horrible fate, while, 
amid shouts and yells, the Indians departed. 
Sometimes he would be forced to run the gauntlet 
between two rows of Indians, each one striking 
at him with a club until he fell dead. Others 
would be fastened between two stakes, their arms 


DANIEL BOONE. 


87 


and legs stretched to each of them, and then quick¬ 
ly burnt by a blazing fire. A common mode was 
to pinion the arms of the prisoner, and then tie one 
end of a grape-vine around his neck, while the 
other was fastened to the stake. A fire was then 
kindled, and the poor wretch would walk the circle; 
this gave the savages the comfort of seeing the 
poor creature literally roasting, while his agony 
was prolonged. Perhaps this was the most popu¬ 
lar mode, too, because all the women and children 
could join in it. They were there, with their bun¬ 
dles of dry sticks, to keep the fire blazing, and 
their long switches, to beat the prisoner. Fearful 
that their victim might die too soon, and thus es¬ 
cape their cruelty, the women would knead cakes 
of clay and put them on the scull of the poor suf¬ 
ferer, that the fire might not reach his brain and 
instantly kill him. As the poor frantic wretch 
would run round the circle, they would yell, dance, 
and sing, and beat him with their switches, until 
he fell exhausted. At other times, a poor prisoner 
would be tied, and then scalding water would be 
poured upon him from time to time till he died. 
It was amazing, too, to see how the warriors 
would sometimes bear these tortures. Tied to the 
stake, they would chant their war-songs, threaten 
their captors with the awful vengeance of their 
tribe, boast of how many of their nation they had 
scalped, and tell their tormentors how they might 


88 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


increase their torture. In the midst of the fire 
they would stand unflinching, and die without 
changing a muscle. It was their glory to die in 
this way ; they felt that they disappointed their 
enemies in their last triumph. 

While Boone was with them, a noted warrior 
of one of the western tribes, with which the Shaw- 
anese were at war, was brought in as a captive. 
He was at once condemned, stripped, fastened to 
the stake, and the fire kindled. After suffering 
without flinching for a long time, he laughed at his 
captors, and told them they did not know how to 
make an enemy eat fire. He called for a pipe and 
tobacco. Excited by his bravery, they gave it to 
him. He sat down on the burning coals, and com¬ 
menced smoking with the utmost composure ; not 
a muscle of his countenance moved. Seeing this, 
one of his captors sprang forward and cried out 
that he was a true warrior. Though he had mur¬ 
dered many of their tribe, yet he should live, if 
the fire had not spoiled him. The fire had, how¬ 
ever, well nigh done its work. With that, he de¬ 
clared that he was too brave a man to suffer any 
longer. He seized a tomahawk and raised it over 
the head of the prisoner : still a muscle did not 
move. He did not even change his posture. 
The blow was given, and the brave warrior fell 
dead. 

While among them, Boone also witnessed the 


DANIEL BOONE. 


89 


mode in which the Shawanese make a treaty of 
peace. The warriors of both tribes between which 
the treaty was to be made, met together first, ate 
and smoked in a friendly way, and then pledged 
themselves in a sacred drink called cussena. The 
Shawanese then waved large fans, made of eagles’ 
tails, and danced. The other party, after this, 
chose six of their finest young men, painted them 
with white clay, and adorned their heads with 
swans’ feathers ; their leader was then placed on 
what was called the “ consecrated seat.” After 
this they all commenced dancing, and singing 
their song of peace. They danced first in a bend¬ 
ing posture ; then stood upright, still dancing, and 
bearing in their right hands their fans, while in 
their left they carried a calabash, tied to a stick 
about a foot long, and with this continually beat 
their breasts. During all this, some added to the 
noise by rattling pebbles in a gourd. This being 
over, the peace was concluded. It was an act 
of great solemnity, and no warrior was considered 
as well trained, who did not know how to join in 
every part of it. 

Many other strange things were seen by Boone 
among these people, but these are enough to show 
you that he was among a strange people, with 
habits very unlike his own. It is not wonderful 
that he sighed to escape, when he looked upon 
their horrid tortures. Independently of his love 
8 * 


90 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


for Boonesborough, he did not know but that such 
tortures might be his at any moment, when they 
became excited. Fortunately, as we have seen, 
he did escape, and we will now go on with his 
story. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


91 


CHAPTER VI. 



HEN Boone reached Boones- 
borough, the object he most 
loved was not to be found. 
His poor wife, wearied with 
waiting for him, and naturally 
concluding that he was lost to 
her for ever, had returned to 
her friends on the Yadkin. 
The settlers had begged her to re¬ 
main, and offered her every kind¬ 
ness ; but her husband was gone: 
she was heart-sick, and longed to 
return to her friends in Carolina. 
Disappointed as he was, however, he 
had no time to waste in sorrow. The 
Indians were approaching, and Boones- 
borough was well nigh defenceless. Just before 
his return, a Major Smith had taken charge of the 
post, and been busy in strengthening it, but much 
was still to be done. Boone’s energies were now 
at work, and in a little time the station was ready 
for an attack. A white man now came into the set- 


92 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


tlement with news. He had escaped from the In* 
dians. The party from which Boone had escaped 
had postponed their attack for three weeks, and 
gone back to strengthen themselves. They felt 
that Boone had reached home—the alarm was 
given, the place fortified—and that it was idle to 
attack it at this time. 

Boone determined at once to improve the mean 
season. With nineteen men, he started off 
to surprise the Indians at Paint Creek Town, a 
small village on the Scioto. When he came with¬ 
in four miles of the place, he met a party of the 
savages on their way to join the large body march¬ 
ing against Boonesborough. The fight instantly 
commenced : one Indian fell dead, several were 
wounded, and the rest were forced to retreat; their 
horses and all their baggage fell into the hands of 
Boone. Two men were now sent to reconnoitre 
the town. They found no Indians there ; they 
had all left. After setting fire to the village, they 
returned, and Boone immediately hurried home¬ 
ward. 

He had scarcely entered the station, and closed 
the gates, when an army of four hundred and forty- 
four Indians, led on by a Frenchman named Du- 
quesne, appeared before the settlement. They 
soon sent in a flag, demanding, in the name of the 
King of Great Britain, that the station should in¬ 
stantly surrender. A council was immediately 


DANIEL BOONE. 


93 


held in the fort. With such a force before them, 
Smith was in favor of meeting their proposal; 
Boone opposed it; the settlers backed him in this 
opposition ; and he sent back for an answer to the 
Indians that the gates should never be opened to 
them. Presently another flag of truce was sent 
in, with a message that they had a letter for Colonel 
Boone from Governor Hamilton, of Detroit. Upon 
hearing this, it was thought best that Boone and 
Smith should go out and meet them, and hear what 
they had to say. 

Fifty yards from the fort they were met by three 
chiefs, who received them very cordially, and led 
them to the spot where they were to hold the par¬ 
ley. Here they were seated upon a panther’s 
skin, while the Indians held branches over their 
heads to protect them from the sun. The chiefs 
then commenced talking in a friendly way, and 
some of their warriors now came forward, ground¬ 
ed their arms, and shook hands with them-. Then 
the letter of General Hamilton was read ; he invi¬ 
ted them to surrender and come at once to Detroit 
where they should be treated with all kindness. 
Smith objected to this proposal, declaring that it 
was impossible for them, at this time, to move 
their women and children; but the Indians had 
an answer ready: they had brought forty hor¬ 
ses with them, they said, expressly to help them 
in removing. After a long and friendly talk, the 


94 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


white men returned to the fort, for the purpose, as 
they said, of considering the proposal. They 
now informed the settlers that the Indians had no 
cannon, and advised them never to think of sur¬ 
rendering. Every man thought the advice good. 

The Indians now sent in another flag, and ask¬ 
ed what treaty the whites were ready to make. 
Boone, who had suspected treachery all the time, 
at once sent a reply, that if they wished to make 
a treaty, the place for making it, must be within 
sixty yards of the fort. This displeased them at 
first, but at last, they consented. He then sta¬ 
tioned some of his men, with their guns, in one 
angle of the fort, with orders to fire if it became 
necessary, and, with Smith, started out to meet 
them. After a long talk with thirty chiefs, terms 
were agreed upon, and the treaty was ready to be 
signed ; the chiefs now said that it was custom¬ 
ary with them, on such occasions, for the Indians 
to shake hands with every white man who signed 
the treaty, as a token of the warmest friendship. 
Boone and Smith agreed to this, and the shaking 
of hands commenced ; presently, they found them¬ 
selves seized in the crowd—the Indians were 
dragging them off; a fire from the fort now lev¬ 
elled the savages who grasped them ; the rest 
were in confusion, and, in the confusion, Boone 
and Smith escaped and rushed into the fort. In 
the struggle Boone was wounded, though not dan- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


95 


gerously. It was a narrow escape for both of 
them. 

There was no more chance for deception now ; 
the Indians were disappointed, and the whites 
were provoked at their treachery. A brisk firing 
now commenced on both sides ; Duquesne ha¬ 
rangued the Indians and urged them on, while the 
whites shouted from the fort, upbraided them as 
treacherous cowards, and defied them. The at¬ 
tack was furious, the firing was kept up till dark, 
and many an Indian fell that day before Boones- 
borough. The whites, sheltered by their pickets, 
made easy havoc among them. 

When night came, the exasperated Indians 
crawled under the pickets and began to throw- 
burning materials into the fort, hoping to set all 
on fire ; but in this they were disappointed—there 
were ample supplies of water inside, and the fire 
was put out as fast as it fell. * 

The next day the firing was resumed, and day 
after day it continued, the Indians failing to make 
any impression. They were too far from the fort 
—the first day’s work had taught them not to 
come near. At last they formed a wiser plan for 
doing mischief. Boonesborough, as you will re¬ 
member, was only sixty yards from the river, and 
they determined, by the advice of the Frenchman, 
to let the water in and force the settlers out. In 
the night, they commenced the work of digging a 


96 THE ADVEXTTEES OF 

trench under ground, from the river. In the morn¬ 
ing Boone looked otft upon the river, and perceiv¬ 
ing that it was muddy, instantly guessed the cause. 
He immediately set his men to the work of cat¬ 
ting a trench inside the fort, to cross the subterra¬ 
nean passage of the Indians. The sSrages saw 
what was doing, for Boone’s men were constantly 
shovelling dirt over the pickets, but they persever¬ 
ed earnestly in their design. At last, however, 
they were forced to stop, for the dirt caved in 
as fast as they dug - disappointed in this, they 
now summoned therSfation once more to a treaty. 
But Boone laughed at them. Do you suppose,” 
said he, ;1 we would pretend to treat with snch 
treacherous wretches 1 Fire on, you onlv waste 
your powder; the gates shall never be opened to 
you while there is a man of ns living.” Takin? 
his advice, they commenced their firing again : at 
last, on the ninth /lay of the siege, wearied with 
their fruitless labor, they killed all the cattle they 
could find, raised a yell, and departed. This was 
a terrible siege for the Indians; it is said that they 
lost two hundred men; Boone counted thirty-sev¬ 
en chief warriors : while the whites, defended by 
their pickets, had bmtwo killed and four wounded. 
A on may judge, too, how industrious the savages 
had been, when I tell you that the whites who 
wanted lead, commenced gathering their balls af¬ 
ter they left, and succeeded in picking out of the 


DANIEL BOONE. 


97 


logs, and frotn the ground, one hundred and twenty- 
five pounds. 

Boone having thus successfully defended his 
settlement, determined now to go in search of his 
wife. Accustomed to travelling through the woods, 
he soon made his lonely^oumey to the Yadkin. 
They were amazed as*hJ3®tered the house of 
Mr. Bryan, his wife's fatlier^pThe appearance of 
one risen from the grave could not have surprised 
them more than that of Boone—the lost man was 
among them, and great was their rejoicing. He 
now remained here with his family for some time, 
and here we will leave him for a little while, to 
talk of what happened in Kentucky during his 
absence. 

The Kentuckians, roused by the Indian hostil¬ 
ity and treachery, determined soon after he left to 
inflict punishment upon them ; against the Shawa- 
nese they were most provoked; it -was among them 
that most of the plots against the whites were 
formed, and the attack, therefore, was to be made 
upon them. An army of one hundred and sixty 
men was soon collected, and the command was 
given to a brave man named Colonel Bowman; 
they were to march directly against old Chilicothe, 
the den of the savages. 

In July of this year (1779), they started and 
reached the home of the Indians, without being 
discovered. At daylight, the fight commenced and 
9 


98 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


continued till ten o’clock. Bowman’s men fought 
bravely, but the Indians had every advantage. 
Knowing all the woods about their settlement, 
while one party fought openly, the other, conceal 
ed behind the grass and trees, poured in a deadly 
fire upon the whites. He was forced at last to 
retreat as rapidly asjjpssi^l'e to a distance of thirty 
miles ; but the Indians pursued him here, doing 
more mischief than before. The savages fought 
desperately. His men were falling around him, 
and but for Colonel Harrod, every man of them 
might have been killed. Seeing the slaughter 
that was continually increasing, he mounted a 
body of horsemen and made a charge upon the 
enemy ; this broke their ranks, they were thrown 
into confusion, and Bowman, with the remnant of 
his men, was enabled to retreat. 

This attack only exasperated the Indians. In 
the course of the next summer (after doing much 
mischief in a smaller way in the meantime), they 
gathered together to the number of six hundred, 
and led on by Colonel Bird, a British officer, came 
down upon Riddle’s and Martin’s stations, at the 
forks of Licking river. They had with them six 
cannons, and managed their matters so secretly, 
that the first news of their approach was given to 
the settlers by the roar of their guns. Of course 
it was of no use to resist; the pickets could not de¬ 
fend them from cannon-balls; the settlers were 


DANIEL BOONE. 


99 


forced to surrender. The savages rushed into the 
station and instantly killed one man and two wo¬ 
men with their tomahawks ; all the others, many of 
whom were sick, were now loaded with baggage 
and forced to march off with the Indians. It was 
certain death to any one, old or young, male or fe¬ 
male, who became, on the march, too weak and 
exhausted to travel farther; they were instantly 
killed with the tomahawk. 

Flushed with success, the Indians were now 
more troublesome than ever; it was impossible 
for the whites to remain in the country if matters 
were to go on in this way. The inhabitants at 
last threw themselves upon the protection of Col¬ 
onel Clarke, who commanded a regiment of United 
States soldiers at the falls of the Ohio. At the 
head of his men and a large number of volunteers, 
he marched against Pecaway, one of the principal 
towns of the Shawanese ; numbers of the savages 
were killed, and the town was burnt to ashes. 
This was a triumph, but it was a triumph gained 
by the loss of seventeen of his men. 

.In 1780, Boone again returned to Boonesborough 
with his family, bringing with him also a younger 
brother. The elder brother (who had been in 
Kentucky before, as you will remember) now re¬ 
turned also, and made his home at a spot not far 
from the place where the town of Shelbyville now 
stands. The settlers were all delighted to see 


100 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


their old friend Daniel Boone once more among 
them; they now felt that their leader was on the 
ground. Mrs. Boone too felt happy. Though she 
was again on “ the dark and bloody ground,'' her 
husband was with her. 

In a little time his services were again especial¬ 
ly needed. The want of salt, their old trouble 
was upon them, and they looked to Boone to pro¬ 
cure it. Ever ready, he started off with his young¬ 
er brother to the Blue Licks, the place of his for¬ 
mer trouble ; here he was destined to meet with 
trouble again. They had made as much salt as 
they could carry, and were now returning to 
Boonesborough with their packs, when they were 
suddenly overtaken by a party of savages ; the 
Indians immediately fired, and Boone’s brother fell 
dead. Daniel Boone turned, levelled his rifle at 
the foremost Indian, and brought him down ; with 
a loud yell the party now rushed toward him. He 
snatched his brother’s rifle, levelled another, and 
then ran. The Indians gave chase, but he managed 
to keep ahead, and even found time to reload his 
rifle. He knew that his only chance for escape 
was to distance them, and break his trail. He 
passed the brow of a hill, jumped into a brook 
below, waded in it for some distance, and then 
struck off* at right angles from his old course. 
Upon looking back he found, to his sorrow, that 
he had not succeeded—the Indians were still on 


DANIEL BOONE. 


101 


his track. Presently, he came to a grape-vine, and 
tried his old experiment at breaking the trail. This 
was to no purpose, he found the savages still fol¬ 
lowing him. After travelling some distance farther, 
upon looking round he saw the cause of his 
trouble ; the Indians had a dog with them, and this 
dog, scenting his track, kept them for ever 
course. His rifle was loaded—the dog was far 
ahead of the party—and Boone sent a rifle ball 
through him. He now pushed on, doubling his 
course from time to time ; the Indians lost track 
of him, and he reached Boonesborough in safety. 

In spite of the continued annoyance of the Indians, 
the white settlements had continued to grow, and 
there were now so many white men in the coun¬ 
try, that in the fall of this year (1780), Kentucky 
was divided into the three counties of Jefferson, 
Fayette, and Lincoln. Our friend, Daniel Boone, 
was appointed to command the militia in his coun¬ 
ty, and William Pope, and Benjamin Logan, two 
brave men, were to have the command in theirs. 

The winter of this year soon set in, and it proved 
a hard one. The settlers, however, bore it cheer¬ 
fully, for they were accustomed to hardships. 
Hard as it was, too, it proved mild to the next that 
followed. The winter of 1781 was long remem¬ 
bered as “ the cold winter” in Kentucky. To make 
it harder, the Indians, after doing much mischief 
through the summer, had destroyed most of the 
9* 


102 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


crops the preceding fall, and the settlers had small 
supplies of food. But the forest was around them ; 
Boone and Harrod were among them, and these 
two men found food enough. Every day they went 
out in the winter’s storms—every night they came 
in laden with deer and buffaloes. The people 
learned to live on nothing but meat. Boone and 
Harrod drove away all thoughts of starvation. 
They had, however, this one comfort: the cold 
weather kept the Indians at home. They had no 
disturbances throughout the winter from them. 

When spring opened, however, the savages 
showed themselves more furious, if possible, than 
ever. Their plans of mischief were better laid; 
they seemed to have been feeding their revenge 
fat. Open and secret war was all around the set¬ 
tlers. It would be idle for me to attempt to give 
details of the doings of the savages. Ashton’s, 
Hoy’s, M‘Afee’s, Kincheloe’s, and Boone’s sta¬ 
tion, near Shelbyville, were all attacked. Men 
were shot down in the open fields, or waylaid in 
every pathway. The early annals of Kentucky 
are filled with stories of many a brave white man 
at this time. There were Ashton, Holden, Lyn, 
Tipton, Chapman, White, Boone, Floyd, Wells, 
the M‘Afees, M/Gary, Randolph, Reynolds, and 
others, some of whom were killed, and all of whom 
had their hard struggles. The history of that 
spring is only a story of burnings, captures, and 


DANIEL BOONE. 


103 


murders, on the part of the savages. It was a 
dark period for the white men ; even Boone, with 
all his vigor and fearlessness, thought it the dark¬ 
est period he had known in that region. The 
savages seemed bent upon a war of extermination. 

Not satisfied with such mischief as they had al¬ 
ready done, in the early part of the summer the 
savages held a grand council at Old Chilicothe, to 
arrange their plans for further destruction. There 
were chiefs there from the Cherokees, Wyandbts, 
Tavvas, j^ottawattomies, and most of the tribes bor¬ 
dering on the lakes. Two notorious white villains 
—whose names will never be forgotten in Ken¬ 
tucky—were there also, to aid them with their 
counsels. These were Girty and M‘Kee, infamous 
men, who lived among the Indians, and lived only 
by murdering their own countrymen. Their plan 
was soon settled. Bryant’s station, near Lexing¬ 
ton, was known to be a strong post, and this was 
to be attacked. This station had within it forty 
cabins, and here it was thought they might make 
the greatest slaughter. The warriors were to 
gather as rapidly as possible for the enterprise. 

In a little time, five hundred of them rallied at 
Girty’s cabin, ready for their departure. The 
white rascal then made a speech to them. He 
told them that “ Kenlucky was a beautiful hunting- 
ground, filled with deer and buffaloes, for their 
comfort; the white men had come to drive them 


104 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


away; the ground was now red with the blood of 
the red men that had been slain. But vengeance 
they would have—now, before the whites were 
yet fastened in the country, they would strike a 
blow, and drive them off for ever.” Then he talked 
of the plan before them. He advised them to de¬ 
scend the Miami in their canoes, cross the Ohio, 
ascend the Licking, and then they might paddle 
their boats almost to the station. His speech was 
answered by a loud yell from the Indians, and 
they all started off for their boats—Simon Girty, 
with his ruffled shirt and soldier coat, marching at 
their head. 

On the night of the 15th of August, they arrived 
before the station. In the morning, as the gates 
were opened, the men were fired at by the sav¬ 
ages, and this was the first news to the whites of 
the approach of the enemy. It was fortunate that 
they had shown themselves tj^s early: in two 
hours more, most of the men were to have started 
off to aid a distant feeble station. As soon as the 
whites found they were besieged, they managed to 
send off the news to Lexington. 

The Indians now, as usual, commenced their 
stratagems. The large body concealed themselves 
in the grass near the pathway to the spring, while 
one hundred went round and attacked the southeast 
angle of the station. Their hope was to draw the 
whites all to that quarter, while they forced an en- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


105 


trance on the other side. But the white men under¬ 
stood this sort of cunning; they had lived among the 
Indians toolongto be caught by such tricks : instead 
of noticing the attack, they went on quietly with the 
work of repairing and strengthening their pali¬ 
sades. 

But water, one of the necessaries of life, was 
soon wanting. The whites, as they looked at the 
tall grass and weeds near the spring, felt that In¬ 
dians were lurking there. The women now came 
forward and insisted upon it that they would go 
and bring water. “ What if they do shoot us ?” 
they said; “ it is better to lose a woman than a 
man at such a time.” With that, they started 
out, and, -strange to tell, went back and forth, 
bringing supplies of water, without any difficulty. 
Some of the young men now went out upon the 
same purpose. They had scarcely left the sta¬ 
tion, when they wej^ fired upon. Fortunately, the 
Indians were too far to do any mischief; the men 
retreated rapidly within the palisades. The In¬ 
dians, finding their stratagem fruitless, now rushed 
forward, and commenced a tremendous attack. 
The whites received them with a steady fire, and 
many of them fell. Enraged the more, they now 
discharged their burning arrows into the roofs of 
the houses ; some of the cabins were burnt, but an 
east wind was blowing at the time, and that saved 
the station. 


106 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


The enemy now fell back into the grass. They 
had found out, in some way, that help was expect¬ 
ed from Lexington, and they were preparing to 
cut it off. In a little time, all was still. Present¬ 
ly sixteen horsemen, followed by thirty-one foot- 
soldiers, were seen coming; these were the men 
from Lexington. Thinking only of the distress 
of their friends, they were hurrying along, when 
the Indians opened a fire upon them. The horse¬ 
men galloped off in a cloud of dust, and reached 
the station in safety. The soldiers on foot, in 
their effort to escape, plunged into the cornfields 
on either side of the road, only to meet the ene¬ 
my. A desperate fight commenced on both sides: 
two soldiers were killed ; the rest—four of them 
having dangerous wounds—reached the pickets. 
The exasperated Indians, disappointed at the es¬ 
cape of this party, now wreaked their vengeance 
by killing all the cattle they qpuld find. 

Finding all their efforts to enter the station idle, 
Simon Girty now came near enough to be heard, 
mounted a stump, and holding in his hand a flag 
of truce, began to talk. “ Surrender promptly,” 
cried Simon; “ if you surrender promptly, no 
blood shall be shed ; but if you will not surren¬ 
der, then know that our cannons and reinforce¬ 
ments are coming. We will batter down your 
pickets as we did at Riddle’s and Martin’s ; every 
man of you shall be slain ; two are dead already—• 


DANIEL BOONE. 


107 


four are wounded ; every man shall die.” This 
language was so insolent, that some of the settlers 
cried out, “ Shoot the rascal!” No man, however, 
lifted his rifle ; the flag of truce protected him. 
“ I am under a flag of truce,” cried Simon; “ do 
you know who it is that speaks to you ?” 

Upon this, a young man named Reynolds leaped 
up and cried out, “ Know you ! know you ! yes, 
we know you well. Know Simon Girty ! yes : he 
is the renegado, cowardly villain, who loves to mur¬ 
der women and children, especially those of his 
own people. Know Simon Girty ! yes : his fa¬ 
ther must have been a panther, and his mother a 
wolf. I have a worthless dog that kills lambs: 
instead of shooting him, I hav& named him Simon 
Girty. You expect reinforcements and cannon, 
do you ? Cowardly wretches like you, that make 
war upon women and children, would not dare to 
touch them off, if you had them. We expect re¬ 
inforcements, too, and in numbers to give a short 
account of the murdering cowards that follow you. 
Even if you could batter down our pickets, I, for 
one, hold your people in too much contempt to 
shoot rifles at them. I would not waste powder 
and ball upon you. Should you even enter our 
fort, I am ready for you; I have roasted a number 
of hickory switches, with which we mean to whip 
you and your naked cut-throats out of the coun¬ 
try!” 


108 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Simon was now furious ; cursing and swearing, 
he went back to his friends, amid the loud laughs 
and jeers of the whites. In a little time, the firing 
was renewed ; it was all to no purpose : no white 
man suffered, and every Indian who came within 
gun-shot of the fort was sure to fall. In the course 
of the night the whole party sneaked off, and their 
tracks indicated that they had started for the Blue 
Licks. They left behind them thirty of their 
number slain. 


DANIEL BOONE 


] 09 


CHAPTER VII. 



OLONEL TODD, of Lexing¬ 
ton, instantly despatched news 
of this attack on Bryant’s sta¬ 
tion, to Colonel Boone, at 
Boonesborough, and Colonel 
Trigg, near Harrodsburgh. In 
a little time, one hundred and 
seventy-six men were collect¬ 
ed under these three officers, to 
march in pursuit. Majors M‘Gary 
and Harland now joined them, de¬ 
termined that they would have a 
part in the punishment of the sav- 
e ages. It was known, too, that Colonel 
Logan was collecting a force, and a 
council of officers was at once held, to 
determine whether they should march on, or wait 
for him. They were all so eager to be off, that 
it was thought best to march immediately. The 
march was therefore commenced forthwith. 

10 


110 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Following on in the trail of the Indians, they 
had not gone far, wffien Boone saw enough to con¬ 
vince him that the Indians would not only be wil¬ 
ling, but glad to meet them. No effort had been 
made to conceal their trail; the trees were even 
marked on their pathway, that the whites might 
follow on ; and they had tried to conceal their 
numbers, by treading in each other’s footsteps. 
He called the attention of his companions to this, 
but still they proceeded onward. 

They saw no Indians until they came to the 
Licking river, not far from the Blue Licks. A 
party was now seen on the other side of the stream, 
leisurely crossing a hill. A council was at once 
held, and the officers all turned to Boone for ad¬ 
vice. His advice was given frankly : he was for 
waiting till Logan should arrive with his men. 
The Indian party, he felt assured, was at the least 
from four to five hundred strong, and the uncon¬ 
cerned mode in which the Indians crossed the 
hill showed that the main body was near, and their 
design was to draw them over the river. More¬ 
over, he was acquainted with all that region of the 
country. After they crossed the ford, they would 
come upon deep ravines not far from the bank, 
where, no doubt, the Indians were in ambush. If, 
however, they were determined not to wait for 
Logan, he advised that the country might at least 
be reconnoitred before the attack was made. A 


DANIEL BOONE. 


Ill 


part of the men, he thought, might cross the stream, 
and move up cautiously on the other side, while 
the remainder would stand where they were, 
ready to assist them at the first alarm. Todd and 
Trigg thought the advice good, and were disposed 
to heed it; but, just at this moment, Major M‘Gary, 
more hot-headed than wise, spurred his horse into 
the water, gave the Kentucky war-whoop, and cried 
out, “All those that are not cowards will follow 
me ; I will show them where the Indians are.” 
The men were roused by this show of bravery, 
and they all crossed the ford. 

The banks were steep on the other side, and 
many of them now dismounted, tied their horses, 
and commenced marching on foot. M‘Gary and 
Harland led the way. They had not proceeded 
far when they came to one of the ravines. It was 
just as Boone had supposed; the savages were in 
ambush. A deadly fire was now poured in upon 
the whites; the men staggered and fell in every 
direction. The fire was returned, but to little pur¬ 
pose, for the enemy was completely concealed; a 
retreat was all that was left. The whites hurried 
back toward the river ; the Indians pursued ; and 
now commenced the slaughter with the tomahawk. 
The ford was narrow, and multitudes were slaugh¬ 
tered there. Some were trying to get to their 
horses; others, more fortunate, were mounted and 
flying ; and some were plunging into the stream. 


112 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


In the midst of all this confusion, the Indians were 
doing their work of destruction. 

A man by the name of Netherland (who had 
been laughed at for his cowardice) had never dis¬ 
mounted his horse, and was the first to reach the op¬ 
posite shore. In a little time, some of his comrades 
were around him. He now turned, and, looking 
back, saw the massacre that was going on. This 
was more than he could bear. “ Halt! fire on the 
Indians,” cried he ; “ protect the men in the river.” 
With this, the men wheeled, fired, and rescued 
several poor fellows in the stream, over whom the 
tomahawk was lifted. 

Reynolds, the man who answered Girty’s inso¬ 
lence, made a. narrow escape. Finding, in the 
retreat, one of the officers wounded, he gave him 
his horse, and was soon after taken by three In¬ 
dians. They were now over him, ready to de¬ 
spatch him, when two retreating white men rushed 
by. Two of the savages started in pursuit; the 
third stooped for an instant to tie his moccasin, 
when Reynolds sprang away from him and es¬ 
caped. 

This was a terrible battle for the white men. 
More than sixty of their number were slain, and 
among them were most of their officers : Colonels 
Todd and Trigg, Majors Harland and Bulger, Cap¬ 
tains Gordon and M ; Bride, and a son of Colonel 
Boone, were all among the dead. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


113 


Those who had regained the other shore, not 
having strength to rally, started homeward in great 
sadness. On their way they met Colonel Logan. 
He had gone to Bryant’s station with his five hun¬ 
dred men, and was greatly disappointed when he 
found they had all started without him ; he pushed 
on, however, as rapidly as he could, hoping to 
overtake them before they made their attack on 
the savages. The sad story of the defeat was soon 
told. All that remained to be done now was to go 
back, and, if possible, bury the dead. Upon this 
sad business Logan continued his march. Upon 
reaching the ground, the spectacle was awful: the 
dead bodies were strewn over it just as they had 
fallen, the heat was intense, and birds of prey 
were feeding upon the carcasses. The bodies 
were so mangled and changed, that no man could 
be distinguished ; friends could not recognise their 
nearest relatives. The dead were buried as rap¬ 
idly as possible, and Logan left the scene in great 
sorrow. 

Nor was this all the carnage. The Indians, af¬ 
ter the defeat, had scattered, and it was soon found 
that on their way homeward they had swept 
through several settlements, carrying destruction 
before them. Emboldened by their triumph, no 
man could tell what they might next attempt. 

It was no time for the whites to be idle. They 
soon rallied in large numbers at Fort Washington, 
10 * 


114 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


the present site of the city of Cincinnati. General 
Clarke was at once made commander-in-chief, and 
Colonel Logan was placed next under him in com¬ 
mand. Clarke immediately started with a thou¬ 
sand men to attack the Indian towns on the Miami. 
On his way he came upon the cabin of Simon 
Girty ; it was fortunate for Simon that a straggling 
Indian spied Clarke’s men coming, in time to let 
him escape. The news w r as now spread every¬ 
where that an army of white men was coming 
from Kentucky. The consequence was, that as 
Clarke approached the towns, he found them all 
deserted ; the Indians had fled to the woods. His 
march, however, was not made for nothing. The 
towns of Old and New Chilicothe, Pecaway, and 
Wills’ Town, were all reduced to ashes. One 
old Indian warrior was surprised, and surrendered 
himself a prisoner. This man, to the great sor¬ 
row of General Clarke, was afterward murdered 
by one of the soldiers. 

Notwithstanding this punishment, Indian mas¬ 
sacres still went on. Stories of savage butchery 
were heard of everywhere ; every station that they 
dared approach felt their fury, and the poor settler 
who had built his cabin away from any station was 
sure to be visited. 

General Clarke started out again, against the In¬ 
dians on the Wabash. Unfortunately, his expedi¬ 
tion failed this time, for the want of provisions for 


DANIEL BOONE. 


115 


his men. Another expedition of Colonel Logan, 
against the Shawanese Indians, was more success¬ 
ful. He surprised one of their towns, killed many 
of their warriors, and took many prisoners. 

The war had now become so serious, that in 
the fall of 1785 the General Government invited 
all the lake and Ohio tribes of Indians to meet at 
the mouth of the Great Miami. It was hoped that 
in this way matters might be settled peaceably. 
But many of the tribes were insolent and ill-na¬ 
tured ; they refused to come in, giving as an ex¬ 
cuse that the Kentuckians were for ever molesting 
them. Emboldened by the very invitation, they 
continued the warfare more vigorou ly than ever. 
They not only assaulted the settlements already 
made, but made an attempt to guard the Ohio river, 
to prevent any further settlers from reaching the 
country in that direction. Small parties placed 
themselves at different points on the river, from 
Pittsburgh to Louisville, where they laid in am¬ 
bush and fired upon every boat that passed. Some¬ 
times they would make false signals, decoy the 
boat ashore, and murder the whole crew. They 
even went so far at last as to arm and man the 
boats they had taken, and cruise up and down the 
river. 

I must tell you of a very bold defence made on 
the Ohio about this time by a Captain Hubbel, who 
bringing 9 party of emigrants from Vermont* 


116 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


His party was in two boats, and consisted in all 
of twenty. As Hubbel came down the river, he 
fell in with other boats, was told of the Indian 
stratagems, and advised to be careful. Indeed, 
the inmates of some of the boats begged that he 
would continue in their company, and thus they 
would be able to meet the Indians better if they 
should be attacked ; the stronger the party, the 
better, in such a condition. But Hubbel refused 
to do this, and proceeded onward. He had not 
gone far, when a man on the shore began to make 
signs of distress, and begged that the boat might 
come and take him off. Hubbel knew well enough 
that this was an Indian disguised as a white man, 
and therefore took no notice of him. In a little 
time, a party of savages pushed off in their boats, 
and attacked him fiercely. The fight was hot on 
both sides. The savages tried to board Hubbel’s 
boat, but the fire was too hot for this. Hubbel re¬ 
ceived two severe wounds, and had the lock of his 
gun shot off by an Indian; still he fought, touch¬ 
ing off his broken gun from time to time with a 
firebrand. The Indians found the struggle too 
hard, and were glad to paddle off. Presently they 
returned, and attacked the other boat; this they 
seized almost without an effort, killed the captain 
and a boy, and took all the women as prisoners to 
their own boats. Now they came once more 
against Hubbel, and cunningly placed the women 


DANIEL BOONE. 


117 


on the sides of their boats as a sort of bulwark. 
But this did not stop Hubbel: he saw that his balls 
must strike the women ; but it was better that they 
should be killed now, rather than suffer a death of 
torture from the savages, and the fire was at once 
opened upon them again. They were soon driven 
off once more. In the course of the action, how¬ 
ever, Hubbel’s boat drifted near the shore, and five 
hundred savages renewed the fire upon them. One 
of the emigrants, more imprudent than the rest, 
seeing a fine chance for a shot, raised his head to 
take aim, and was instantly killed by a ball. The 
boat drifted along, and at length reached deep wa¬ 
ter again. It was then found, that of the nine men 
on board, two only had escaped unhurt; two were 
killed, and two mortally wounded. A remarkable 
lad on board showed great courage. He now asked 
his friends to extract a ball that had lodged in the 
skin of his forehead ; and when this was done, he 
begged that they would take out a piece ojf bone 
that had been fractured in his elbow by another 
ball. His poor frightened mother, seeing his suf¬ 
fering, asked him why he had not complained be¬ 
fore ; to which the little fellow replied that he had 
been too busy, and, besides that, the captain had 
told them all to make no noise. 

It was idle to attempt now to settle matters 
peaceably. The general government had tried 
that and the plan had failed. The war was now 


118 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


to be carried on to a close, come what might. An 
expedition was accordingly planned, against all the 
tribes northwest of the Ohio. The Indians were 
to be brought out, if possible to a general fight; or, 
if that could not be done, all their towns and cab¬ 
ins on the Scioto and Wabash, were to be destroy¬ 
ed. General Harmar was appointed commander 
of the main expedition, and Major Hamtranckwas 
to aid him with a smaller party. 

In the fall of 1791, Harmar started from 
Fort Washington with three hundred and twenty 
men. In a little time he was joined by the Ken¬ 
tucky and Pennsylvania militia, so that his whole 
force now amounted to fourteen hundred and fifty- 
three men. Colonel Hardin, who commanded the 
Kentucky militia, was now sent ahead with six 
hundred men, principally militia, to reconnoitre the 
country. Upon reaching the Indian settlements, 
the savages set fire to their houses and fled ; to 
overtake them, he pushed on with two hundred 
of his men. Aparty'of Indians met and attacked 
them. The cowardly militia ran off, leaving their 
brave companions to be slaughtered. It was a 
brave struggle, but almost all were cut down ; only 
seven managed to escape and join the main army. 

Harmar felt deeply mortified. He commenced 
forthwith his return to Fort Washington, but deter 
mined that, on the way, he would wipe off this 
disgrace from his army. Upon coming near Chili- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


119 


cothe he accordingly halted, and in the night des¬ 
patched Colonel Hardin once more ahead, with 
orders to find the enemy and draw them into an 
engagement. About daybreak Hardin came upon 
them, and the battle commenced. It was a des¬ 
perate fight on both sides. Some of the militia 
acted badly again, but the officers behaved nobly. 
The victory was claimed on both sides, but I think 
the Indians had the best of it. Three gallant offi¬ 
cers,Fontaine,Willys, and Frothingham.were slain, 
together with fifty regulars and one hundred militia. 

Harmar now moved on to Fort Washington. So 
much was said about his miserable campaign,that he 
requested that he might be tried by a court-martial. 
Accordingly he was tried and honorably acquitted. 

A new army was soon raised, and the command 
was now given to Major-General Arthur St. Clair. 
His*plan was to destroy the Indian settlements 
between the Miamies, drive the savages from that 
region, and establish a chain of military posts 
there, which should for ever keep them out of the 
country. All having rallied at Fort Washington, 
he started off in the direction of the Miami towns. 
It was a hard march, for he was forced to cut his 
roads as he passed along. Upon arriving near the 
Indian country, he built forts Hamilton and Jef¬ 
ferson and garrisoned them. This left him nearly 
two thousand men to proceed with. In a little 
time some of the worthless militia deserted. This 


120 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


was a bad example to the rest, and St. Clair in 
stantly sent Major Hamtranck, with a regiment, in 
pursuit of them, while he continued his march. 
When he arrived within fifteen miles of the Mia¬ 
mi villages he halted and encamped ; he was soon 
after joined by' Major Hamtranck, and St. Clair 
proposed now immediately to march against the 
enemy. 

But the enemy had already got news of them, 
aud had made ready. They were determined to 
have the first blow themselves. At daybreak the 
next morning, the savages attacked the militia and 
drove them back in confusion. These broke 
through the regulars, forcing their way into the 
camp, the Indians pressing hard on their heels. 
The officers tried to restore order, but to no pur¬ 
pose : the fight now became general. This, how¬ 
ever, was only a small part of the Indian force— 
there were four thousand of the party; they had 
nearly surrounded the camp, and sheltered by the 
trees and grass as usual, were pouring in a deadly 
fire upon the whites. St. Clair and all his officers 
behaved with great courage. Finding his men 
falling fast around him, he ordered a charge to be 
made with the bayonet. The men swept through 
the long grass driving the Indians before them. 
The charge had no sooner ceased than the In¬ 
dians returned. Some forced their way into the 
camp, killed the artillerists, wounded Colonel But- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


121 


ler, and seized the cannon. Wounded as he was, 
Butler drove them back and recovered the guns. 
Fired with new ardor, they returned again, once 
more entered the camp—once more had posses¬ 
sion of the cannon. All was now confusion among 
the whites—it was impossible to restore order— 
the Indians brought them down in masses— 
a retreat was all that remained. But they were 
so hemmed in, that this seemed impossible. Col¬ 
onel Darke was ordered to charge the savages be¬ 
hind them, while Major Clarke with his battalion 
was commanded to cover the rear of the army. 
These orders were instantly obeyed, and the dis¬ 
orderly retreat commenced. The Indians pursued 
them four miles, keeping up a running fight. At 
last their chief, a Mississago, who had been train¬ 
ed to war by the British, cried out to them to stop 
as they had killed enough. They then returned 
to plunder the camp and divide the spoils, while 
the routed troops continued their flight to Fort Jef¬ 
ferson, throwing away their arms on the roadside 
that they might run faster. The Indians found in 
the camp seven pieces of cannon, two hundred 
oxen, and several horses, and had a great rejoi¬ 
cing. Well might the Mississago chief tell his 
people they had killed enough : thirty-eight com¬ 
missioned officers were slain, and five hundred 
and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and 
privates. Besides this, twenty-one officers and 
11 


122 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


two hundred and forty-two men were wounded; 
some of whom soon died of their wounds. 

This was a most disastrous battle for the whiles, 
the most disastrous they had yet known. The 
triumphant Indians were so delighted that they 
could not leave the field, but kept up their revels 
from day to day. Their revels, however, were at 
length broken up sorrowfully for them. General 
Scott, hearing of the disaster, pushed on for the 
field with one thousand mounted volunteers from 
Kentucky. The Indians were dancing and sing 
ing, and riding the horses and oxen in high glee 
Scott instantly attacked them ; two hundred were 
killed, their plunder retaken, and the whole body 
of savages driven from the ground. 

When Congress met soon after this, of course 
this wretched Indian war was much talked of. It 
was proposed at once to raise three additional 
regiments. Upon this a hot debate sprang up, the 
proposal was opposed warmly ; the opponents said 
that it would be necessary to lay a heavy tax up¬ 
on the people to raise them, that the war had been 
badly managed, and should have been trusted to 
the militia in the west under their own officers, 
and, moreover, that no success could be expected 
so long as the British continued to hold posts in 
our own limits, and furnish the Indians with arms, 
ammunition, and advice. 

On the other hand, it was declared that the war 


DANIEL BOONE. 


123 


was a just and necessary one. It was shown that 
in seven years (between 1783 and 1790), fifteen 
hundred people in Kentucky had been murdered 
or taken captives by the savages ; while in Penn¬ 
sylvania and Virginia matters had been well nigh 
as bad; that everything had been done to settle 
matters peaceably but all to no purpose. In 1790, 
when a treaty was proposed to the Indians of the 
Miami, they asked for thirty days to deliberate— 
the request was granted—during those thirty days 
one hundred and twenty persons had been killed 
or captured, and at the end of the time the sav¬ 
ages refused to give any answer to the proposal. 
At last the vote was taken—the resolution passed 
—the war was to be carried on—the regiments 
were to be raised. 

General St. Clair now resigned the command 
of the army, and Major General Anthony Wayne 
was appointed to succeed him. This appointment 
gave great joy to the western people ; the man 
was so well known among them for his daring and 
bravery, that he commonly went by the name of 
“ Mad Anthony.” 

After much delay, the regiments were at last 
gathered together. Some still opposed this war 
and in order to prove to them that the government 
was willing to settle matters peaceably, if possible, 
two officers—Colonel Hardin and Major Truman, 
were now sent off to the Indians with proposals 


124 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


of peace. They were both seized and murdered 
by the savages. 

Wayne now started out upon his expedition. In 
a little time he passed Fort Jefferson, took posses¬ 
sion of St. Clair’s fatal field, and erected a fort 
there which he called Fort Recovery. He now 
learned the truth of the stories about the British. 
A number of British soldiers had come down from 
Detroit, and fortified themselves on the Miami of 
the lakes. It was rumored too, that in some of the 
Indian fights and massacres, the English were 
seen among them, fighting and urging them on. 

The General continued his march, and early ir 
August reached the confluence of the Miami of 
the Lakes and the Au Glaize. This was one of 
the finest countries of the Indians, it was about 
thirty miles from the British post, and he discov¬ 
ered here, that two thousand warriors were near 
that post ready to meet him. Wayne was glad to 
hear this ; his army was quite as strong, and he 
longed to meet the savages. As he drew near, 
however, he determined once more to have peace 
if possible, without shedding blood. A message 
was sent to the Indians, urging them not to follow 
the advice of bad men, to lay down their arms, to 
learn to live peaceably, and their lives and their 
homes should be protected by the government. 
An insolent answer, was all that was received in 
reply. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


125 


Wayne’s army now marched on in columns—a 
select battalion, under Major Price, moving in front 
to reconnoitre. After marching about five miles, 
Price was driven back by the fire of the Indians. 
As usual, the cunning enemy was concealed; 
they had hid themselves in a thick wood a little 
in advance of the British post, and here Price had 
received their fire. 

Wayne had now found out precisely where 
they were, and gave his orders accordingly. The 
cavalry under Captain Campbell were commanded 
to enter the wood in the rear of the Indians, be¬ 
tween them and the river, and charge their left 
flank. General Scott, with eleven hundred mount¬ 
ed Kentucky volunteers, was to make a circuit in 
the opposite direction, and attack the right. The 
infantry were to advance with trailed arms, and 
rouse the enemy from their hiding-places. All 
being ready, the infantry commenced their march. 
The Indians were at once routed at the point of 
the bayonet. The infantry had done the whole ; 
Campbell and Scott had hardly the chance of do¬ 
ing any of the fighting. In the course of an hour, 
they had driven the savages back two miles ; in 
fact, within gun-shot of the British post. 

Wayne had now the possession of the whole 
ground, and here he remained three days, burning 
their houses and cornfields above and below the 
fort. One Englishman suffered, too, in this work 
11 * 


126 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


of destruction. Colonel M‘Kee was known as a 
British trader,for ever instigating the Indians against 
the Americans, and Wayne did not scruple to 
burn all his houses and stores likewise. Major 
Campbell, who commanded the British fort, re¬ 
monstrated at this, but Wayne gave him a bold and 
determined answer in reply, and he had no more 
to say. A few words from him would only have 
caused Wayne to drive him from the country. 

The army now returned to Au Glaize, destroy¬ 
ing all the houses, villages, and crops by the way. 
It was one complete work of destruction; within 
fifty miles of the river everything was destroyed. 
In this campaign, Wayne had lost one hundred and 
seven men, and among them were two brave offi¬ 
cers—Captain Campbell and Lieutenant Towles, 
but still he had gained a glorious victory. In his 
track, too, he had not forgotten to build forts, to 
guard against the savages in future. 

The story of the victory soon spread, and struck 
terror to the hearts of the Indians north and south. 
They were restless and dissatisfied, but war was 
sure destruction to them ; they felt that it was idle 
to attempt it further, and were ready to be quiet. 
In less than a year from this time, Wayne con¬ 
cluded a treaty, in behalf of the United States, 
with all the Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio. 
The settlers at last had peace—a blessing which 
they had long desired. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


127 


CHAPTER VIII 



SpL. ITH the return of peace, the 
gjrV settlers were very happy. 
They could now go out, fell 
the forests, and cultivate their 
fields in safety. There was 
no longer any wily savage to 
lay in ambush, and keep them 
^ ^ in perpetual anxiety. No man 
among them was happier than 
Boone. He had been harassed by 
constant struggles ever since he 
came to Kentucky, and these strug¬ 
gles with the savages had made him 



a warrior rather than a hunter $ but he 


could now return to his darling pas- 


While others cultivated the 


ground, he roamed through the wilderness with 
his rifle; he was now a hunter indeed, spending 
weeks and months uninterruptedly in the forests. 
By day he moved where he pleased, and at night 
made his camp fearlessly wherever the shades of 


128 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


night overtook him. His life was now happier 
than ever. 

Ere long, however, a cloud came over this hap¬ 
piness. Men began again to crowd too closely 
upon him. In spite of all the early struggles with 
the savages in Kentucky, emigrants had continued 
to flow into that country. As early as 1783, Ken¬ 
tucky had been laid off into three counties, and 
was that year formed into one district, and called 
the District of Kentucky. In 1785, a convention 
was called at Danville, and a memorial was ad¬ 
dressed to the legislature of Virginia, proposing 
that Kentucky should be erected into an indepen¬ 
dent State. In 1786, the legislature of Virginia 
took the necessary steps for making the new State, 
if Congress would admit it into the Union. In 
1792, Kentucky was admitted into the Union as 
one of the United States of America. And now 
that peace had come to aid the settlers, emigration 
flowed in more rapidly. Court-houses, jails, judges, 
lawyers, sheriffs, and constables, began necessa¬ 
rily to be seen. Kentucky was becoming every 
day a more settled and civilized region, and Boone’s 
heart grew sick. He had sought the wilderness, 
and men were fast taking it away from him. He 
began to think of moving. 

Another sorrow now came over him, and soon 
fixed in him the determination to seek a new home. 
Men began to dispute with him the title to his 


DANIEL BOONE. 


129 


land. The State of Kentucky had not been sur¬ 
veyed by the government, and laid off into sections 
and townships, as the lands north of the Ohio river 
have since been. The government of Virginia 
had issued certificates, entitling the holder to locate 
where he pleased the number of acres called for. 
To actual settlers, who should build a cabin, raise 
a crop, &c., pre-emption rights to such lands as 
they might occupy were also granted. Entries 
of these certificates were made in a way so loose, 
that different men frequently located the same 
lands; one title would often lap over upon anoth¬ 
er ; and almost all the titles conferred in this way 
became known as “ the lapping, or shingle titles.” 
Continued lawsuits sprang out of this state of 
things; no man knew what belonged to him. 
Boone had made these loose entries of his lands: 
his titles, of course, were disputed. It was curi¬ 
ous to see the old man in a court of law, which he 
thoroughly despised, fighting for his rights. He 
was greatly provoked ; he had explored and re¬ 
deemed the wilderness, as he said, borne every 
hardship with his wife and children, only to be 
cheated at last. But the law decided against him ; 
he lost his lands, and would now no longer remain 
in that region. 

Hearing that buffaloes and deer were still plenty 
about the Great Kanhawa river, he started thither 
with his wife and children, and settled near Point 


130 


THE ADVENTURES OP 


Pleasant. Here lie remained several years. Ho 
was disappointed in not finding game as he expect¬ 
ed, and was more of a farmer here than ever be¬ 
fore ; he turned his attention earnestly to agricul¬ 
ture, and was very successful in raising good 
crops. Still he was dissatisfied ; he longed for 
the wilderness. Hunting and trapping were the 
constant thoughts of his life. 

While living here, he met accidentally with a 
party of men who had been out upon the upper 
waters of the Missouri. These men talked of the 
beauty of that region : they had stories to tell of 
grizzly bears, buffaloes, deer, beavers, and otters— 
in fact, the region was in their eyes “ the paradise 
for a hunter.” Fired by these stories, Boone re¬ 
solved to go there. Accordingly, he gathered to¬ 
gether all that he possessed, and with his wife and 
family started for Missouri, driving his herds and 
cattle before him. It was strange to see an old 
man thus vigorous in seeking a new home. He 
was an object of surprise to every one. When he 
reached Cincinnati, on his route, some one, mark¬ 
ing his age, and surprised at his adventure, asked 
him how, at his time of life, he could leave all the 
comforts of home, for the wilderness. His answer 
shows his whole character : “ Too much crowded, 
too much crowded,” said he ; “ I want more elbow- 
room.” Travelling on, he at length reached Mis- 


DANIEL BOONE. 


131 


souri, and, proceeding about fifty miles above St. 
Louis, settled in what is now St. Charles county. 

Here everything pleased Boone. The country, 
as you know, was then in the possession of the 
French and Spanish, and the old laws by which 
their territories were governed were still in force 
there. They had no constitution, no king, no 
legislature, no judges, lawyers, or sheriffs. An 
officer called the commandant, and the priests, ex¬ 
ercised all the authority that was needed. The 
horses, cattle, flocks, and herds of these people all 
grazed together upon the same commons ; in fact, 
they were living here almost in primitive sim¬ 
plicity. Boone’s character for honesty and cour¬ 
age soon became known among them, and he was 
appointed by the Spanish commandant the com ¬ 
mandant over the district of St. Charles. 

Boone now had the satisfaction of settling all 
his children comfortably around him, and in the 
unbroken wilderness his hunting and trapping was 
unmolested. In his office of commandant he gave 
great satisfaction to every one, and continued 
to occupy it until Missouri was purchased by 
our government from the French.. When that 
purchase was made, American enterprise soon 
came upon him again—he was once more crowd¬ 
ed by his fellow-men. His old office of command¬ 
ant was soon merged in the new order of things 
—his hunting-grounds were invaded by others, 


132 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


Nothing remained for him now, but to submit to his 
fate ; he was too old to move again, nor indeed did 
he know where to go. He continued his old hab¬ 
its, as well he might. He would start out with his 
rifle, now marked with a paper sight to guide his 
dim eye, and be absent from his home for weeks. 
Nearly eighty years had passed over him, yet he 
would lie in wait near the salt-licks, and bring 
down his buffalo or his deer, and as bravely and 
cheerily as in his younger days, would he cut down 
bee-trees. As the light-hearted Frenchmen swept 
up the river in their fleets of periogues on their 
hunting excursions, Boone would cheer them as 
they passed, and sigh for his younger days that 
he might join their parties. He was a complete 
Nimrod, now almost worn out. 

It was while he was living here, I think, that 
he was met by that very interesting man, Mr. Au¬ 
dubon, the natural historian of our continent. He 
was struck with the man, and has given the 
story of his interview with Boone. It is so illus¬ 
trative of the charactor of the hunter, that I give 
it to you in Mr. Audubon’s words. 

“ Daniel Boone, or as he was usually called in 
the western country, Colonel Boone, happened to 
spend a night under the same roof with me, more 
than twenty years ago. We had returned from a 
shooting excursion, in the course of which his 
extraordinary skill in the management of a rifle 


DANIEL BOONE. 


133 


had been fully displayed. On retiring to the room 
appropriated to that remarkable individual and my¬ 
self for the night, I felt anxious to know more of 
his exploits and adventures than I did, and accord¬ 
ingly took the liberty of proposing numerous ques¬ 
tions to him. The stature and general appear¬ 
ance of this wanderer of the western forests, ap¬ 
proached the gigantic. His chest was broad and 
prominent; his muscular powers displayed them¬ 
selves in every limb ; his countenance gave indi¬ 
cation of his great courage, enterprise, and perse¬ 
verance ; and when he spoke, the very motion of 
his lips brought the impression, that whatever he 
uttered could not be otherwise than strictly true. 
I undressed, while he merely took off his hunting 
shirt, and arranged a few folds of blankets on the 
floor ; choosing rather to lie there, as he observed, 
than on the softest bed. When we had both dis¬ 
posed of ourselves, each after his own fashion, he 
related to me the following account of his powers 
of memory, which I lay before you, kind reader, 
in his own words, hoping that the simplicity of his 
style may prove interesting to you. 

“ I was once,” said he, “ on a hunting expedi¬ 
tion on the banks of the Green river, when the 
lower parts of this (Kentucky) were still in the 
hands of nature, and none but the sons of the soil 
were looked upon as its lawful proprietors. We 
Virginians had for some time been waging a war 
12 


134 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


of intrusion upon them, and I, among the rest, ram¬ 
bled through the woods, in pursuit of their race, 
as I now would follow the tracks of any ravenous 
animal. The Indians outwitted me one darknight ; 
and I was as unexpectedly as suddenly made a pris¬ 
oner by them. The trick had been managed with 
great skill; for no sooner had I extinguished the 
fire of my camp, and laid me down to rest, in full 
security, as I thought, than I felt myself seized by 
an indistinguishable number of hands, and was 
immediately pinioned, as if about to be led to the 
scaffold for execution. To have attempted to be 
refractory, would have proved useless and danger¬ 
ous to my life ; and I suffered myself to be re¬ 
moved from my camp to theirs, a few miles dis¬ 
tant, without uttering even a word of complaint. 
You are aware, I dare say, that to act in this man¬ 
ner, was the best policy, as you understand that 
by so doing, I proved to the Indians at once, that 
I was born and bred as fearless of death as any 
of themselves. 

“ When we reached the camp, great rejoicings 
were exhibited. Two squaws, and a few pap 
ooses, appeared particularly delighted at the sight 
of me, and I was assured, by very unequivocal 
gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the mor¬ 
tal enemy of the red-skins would cease to live. I 
never opened my lips, but was busy contriving 
some scheme which might enable me to give the 


DANIEL BOONE, 


135 


rascals the slip before dawn. The women imme¬ 
diately fell a searching about my hunting-shirt for 
whatever they might think valuable, and fortunately 
for me, soon found my flask, filled with Mononga- 
hela (that is, reader, strong whiskey). A terrific 
grin was exhibited on their murderous counten¬ 
ances, while my heart throbbed with joy at the 
anticipation of their intoxication. The crew im¬ 
mediately began to beat their bellies and sing, as 
they passed the bottle from mouth to mouth. How 
often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and 
filled with aquafortis ! I observed that the squaws 
drank more freely than the warriors, and again 
my spirits were about to be depressed, when 
the report of a gun was heard at a distance. 
The Indians all jumped on their feet. The 
singing and drinking were both brought to a 
stand ; and I saw with inexpressible joy, the men 
walk off to some distance, and talk to the squaws. 
I knew that they were consulting about me, and I 
foresaw, that in a few moments the warriors would 
go to discover the cause of the gun having been 
fired so near their camp. I expected the squaws 
would be left to guard me. Well, sir, it was just 
so They returned ; the men took up their guns 
and walked away. The squaws sat down again, 
and in less than five minutes they had my bottle 
up to their dirty mouths, gurgling down their 
throats the remains of the whiskey. 


136 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


“ With what pleasure did I see them becoming 
more and more drunk, until the liquor took such 
hold of them that it was quite impossible for these 
women to be of any service. They tumbled down, 
rolled about, and began to snore ; when I, having 
no other chance of freeing myself from the cords 
that fastened me, rolled over and over toward the 
fire, and after a short time burned them asunder. 
I rose on my feet; stretched my stiffened sinews ; 
snatched up my rifle, and, for once in my life, 
spared that of Indians. I now recollect how de¬ 
sirous I once or twice felt to lay open the sculls 
of the wretches with my tomahawk ; but when I 
again thought upon killing beings unprepared and 
unable to defend themselves, it looked like murder 
without need, and I gave up the idea. 

“ But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, 
and walking to a thrifty ash sapling, I cut out of 
it three large chips, and ran off. I soon reached 
the river; soon crossed it, and threw myself deep 
into the canebrakes, imitating the tracks of an In¬ 
dian with my feet, so that no chance might be left 
for those from whom I had escaped to overtake 
me. 

“ It is now nearly twenty years since this hap¬ 
pened, and more than five since I left the whites’ 
settlements, which I might probably never have 
visited again, had I not been called on as a wit¬ 
ness in a lawsuit that was pending in Kentucky 


DANIEL BOONE. 


137 


and which, I really believe, would never have been 
settled, had I not come forward, and established 
the beginning of a certain boundary line. This 
is the story, sir. 

“ Mr.-moved from old Virginia into Ken¬ 

tucky, and having a large tract granted to him in 
the new state, laid claim to a certain parcel of land 
adjoining Green river, and as chance would have 
it, he took for one of his corners the very ash tree 
on which I had made my mark, and finished his 
survey of some thousands of acres, beginning, as 
it is expressed in the deed, ‘ at an ash marked by 
three distinct notches of the tomahawk of a white 
man.’ 

“ The tree had grown much, and the bark had 
covered the marks; but, some how or other, Mr. 

-heard from some one all that I have already 

said to you, and thinking that I might remember 
the spot alluded to in the deed, but which was no 
longer discoverable, wrote for me to come and try 
at least to find the place on the tree. His letter 
mentioned, that all my expenses should be paid ; 
and not caring much about once more going back 

to Kentucky, I started and met Mr.-. After 

some conversation, the affair with the Indians 
came to my recollection. I considered for a while, 
and began to think that after all, I could find the 
very spot, as well as the tree, if it was yet stand¬ 
ing. 


12 ’ 





138 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


“ Mr.-and I mounted our horses, and off 

we went to the Green river bottoms. After some 
difficulties, for you must be aware, sir, that great 
changes had taken place in these woods, I found 
at last the spot where I had crossed the river, and 
waiting for the moon to rise, made for the course 
in which I thought the ash tree grew. On ap¬ 
proaching the place, I felt as if the Indians were 
there still, and as if I was still a prisoner among 
them. Mr.-and I camped near what I con¬ 

ceived the spot, and waited till the return of day. 

“ At the rising of the sun I was on foot, and 
after a good deal of musing, thought that an ash 
tree then in sight must be the very one on which 
I had made my mark. I felt as if there could be 
no doubt of it, and mentioned my thought to Mr. 

-. ‘Well, Colonel Boone,’ said he, ‘if you 

think so, I hope it may prove true, but we must 
have some witnesses ; do you stay hereabout, and 
I will go and bring some of the settlers whom I 

know.’ I agreed. Mr.-trotted off, and I, to 

pass the time, rambled about to see if a deer was 
still living in the land. But ah ! sir, what a won¬ 
derful difference thirty years make in the country! 
Why, at the time when I was caught by the In¬ 
dians, you would not have walked out in any di¬ 
rection for more than a mile without shooting a 
buck or a bear. There were ten thousands of buf¬ 
faloes on the hills in Kentucky; the land looked 






DANIEL BOONE. 


139 


as if it would never become poor; and to hunt in 
those days was a pleasure indeed. But when 1 
was left to myself on the banks of the Green riv¬ 
er, I dare say for the last time in my life, a few 
signs only of deer were to be seen, and as to a 
deer itself, I saw none. 

“ Mr.-returned, accompanied by three gen¬ 

tlemen. They looked upon me as if I had been 
Washington himself, and walked to the ash tree 
which I now called my own, as if in quest of a 
long lost treasure. I took an axe from one of 
them and cut a few chips off the bark. Still no 
signs were to b§ seen. So I cut again, until I 
thought it time to be cautious, and I scraped and 
worked away with my butcher knife, until I did 
come to where my tomahawk had left an impres¬ 
sion in the wood. We now went regularly to 
work, and scraped at the tree with care, until three 
hacks, as plain as any three notches ever were, 
could be seen. Mr.-and the other gentle¬ 

men were astonished, and, I must allow, I was as 
much surprised as pleased, myself. I made affi¬ 
davit of this remarkable occurrence in the presence 

of these gentlemen. Mr.-gained his cause. 

I left Green river, for ever, and came to where 
we now are ; and, sir, I wish you a good night.” 

Here, too, it was that he resided, when Mr. As- 
tor attempted to carry out his magnificent design, 
of settling Astoria on the western coast of our 





140 


THE ADVENTURES OF 


continent, and belting the earth with his coni’ 
merce. When you are older, you can read the 
beautiful history of that attempt, written by our 
distinguished countryman Mr. Irving. As the par¬ 
ty, bound for the far west, moved up the Missouri, 
Boone stood upon the banks of the stream, looking 
anxiously after them. It was just the adventure 
to please him. There the old man stood, leaning 
upon his rifle, his dim eye lighted up as he gazed 
upon them, and his heart heavy with sorrow, be¬ 
cause he was too old to press with them, beyond 
the mountains.* 

Other sorrows than those of age, now crept up¬ 
on him. His wife, who had been to him all that 
was good, was now taken from him, and the old 
man was left widowed. With a sad heart he now 
went to the home of his son, Major Nathan Boone. 

The last war with England now broke out, too, 
and penetrated even the wilds of Missouri. It 
was the worst of all warfare—the savages were 
let loose upon them. Boone was too old to act 
the part of a soldier, but he sent off many substi¬ 
tutes in his sons. 

When peace returned,the spirit of the old man 
rallied ; his ruling passion was still with him. 
The woods were again his home, his rifle his com¬ 
panion ; and thus he lived on, through a vigorous 
old age, with a passion as strong as ever, a hunter 

* See Irving’s Astoria. 


DANIEL BOONE. 


141 


almost to the very day of his death. For when, in 
1818, death came upon him, he had but little no¬ 
tice of its approach. With no disease but old age, 
which had seemed comparatively vigorous almost 
to the day of his departure, he died in his eighty- 
fourth year. His mind was unclouded and he 
passed from this world calmly and quietly. 

I have but one thing more to say. You remem¬ 
ber Daniel Boone’s schoolboy days, of which I 
have spoken. He left school a perfectly ignorant 
lad. Some say that he afterward learned to write, 
and produce as an evidence, a little narrative of his 
wanderings in Kentucky, supposed to be written 
by himself. I believe, however, that to the day of 
his death, he could not write his name. The narra¬ 
tive spoken of, was, I think, dictated in some de¬ 
gree by him, and written by another. At all events, 
the story is interesting and curious, and, as such, 
I have placed it for your benefit, as an appendix to 
this volume. 




















APPENDIX. 


THE ADVENTURES OF COLONEL DANIEL BOONE, 

FORMERLY A HUNTER ; 

CONTAINING A NARRATIVE OF THE WARS OF KENTUCKY, 
AS GIVEN BY HIMSELF. 



URIOSITY is natural to the 
soul of man, and interesting 
objects have a powerful influ¬ 
ence on our affections. Let 
these influencing powers ac¬ 
tuate, by the permission or 
disposal of Providence, from 
selfish or social views, yet in 
time the mysterious will of Heaven 
is unfolded, and we behold our con¬ 
duct, from whatsoever motives ex¬ 
cited, operating to answer the im¬ 
portant designs of Heaven. Thus 
we behold Kentucky, lately a howling 
wilderness, the habitation of savages 
and wild beasts, become a fruitful field; 
this region, so favorably distinguished by nature, 



144 


APPENDIX. 


now become the habitation of civilization, at a pe¬ 
riod unparalleled in history, in the midst of a 
raging war, and under all the disadvantages of 
emigration to a country so remote from the inhab¬ 
ited parts of the continent. Here, where the hand 
of violence shed the blood of the innocent; where 
the horrid yells of savages and the groans of 
the distressed sounded in our ears, we now hear 
the praises and adorations of our Creator ; where 
wretched wigwams stood, the miserable abodes 
of savages, we behold the foundations of cities 
laid, that, in all probability, will equal the glory 
of the greatest upon earth. And we view Ken¬ 
tucky, situated on the fertile banks of the great 
Ohio, rising from obscurity to shine with splendor, 
equal to any other of the stars of the American 
hemisphere. 

The settling of this region well deserves a place 
in history. Most of the memorable events I have 
myself been exercised in ; and, for the satisfaction 
of the public, will briefly relate the circumstances 
of my adventures, and scenes of life, from my first 
movement to this country until this day. 

It was on the first of May, in the year 1769, 
that I resigned my domestic happiness for a time, 
and left my family and peaceable habitartion on 
the Yadkin river, in» North Carolina, to wander 
through the wilderness of America, in quest of 
the country of Kentucky, in company with John 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 145 

Finley, John Stewart, Joseph Holden, James Mo- 
nay, and William Cool. We proceeded success¬ 
fully, and after a long and fatiguing journey through 
a mountainous wilderness, in a westward direc¬ 
tion, on the 7th day of June following we found 
ourselves on Red river, where John Finley had 
formerly been trading with the Indians, and, from 
the top of an eminence, saw with pleasure the 
beautiful level of Kentucky. Here let me observe 
that for some time we had experienced the most 
uncomfortable weather, as a prelibation of our fu¬ 
ture sufferings. At this place we encamped, and 
made a shelter to defend us from the inclement 
season, and began to hunt and reconnoitre the 
country. We found everywhere abundance of 
wild beasts of all sorts, through this vast forest. 
The buffalo were more frequent than I have seen 
cattle in the settlements, browsing on the leaves 
of the cane, or cropping the herbage on those ex¬ 
tensive plains, fearless, because ignorant, of the 
violence of man. Sometimes we saw hundreds 
in a drove, and the numbers about the salt springs 
were amazing. In this forest, the habitation of 
beasts of every kind natural to America, we prac¬ 
tised hunting with great success until the 22d day 
of December following. 

This day John Stewart and I had a pleasing 
ramble, but fortune changed the scene in the close 
of it. We had passed through a great forest, on 
13 


146 


APPENDIX. 


which stood myriads of trees, some gay with blos¬ 
soms, and others rich with fruits. Nature was 
here a series of wonders, and a fund of delight. 
Here she displayed her ingenuity and industry in 
a variety of flowers and fruits, beautifully colored, 
elegantly shaped, and charmingly flavored ; and we 
were diverted with innumerable animals present¬ 
ing themselves perpetually to our view. In the 
decline of the day, near Kentucky river, as we 
ascended the brow of a small hill, a number of 
Indians rushed out of a thick canebrake upon us, 
and made us prisoners. The time of our sorrow 
was now arrived, and the scene fully opened. 
The Indians plundered us of what we had, and 
kept us in confinement seven days, treating us 
with common savage usage. During this time we 
discovered no uneasiness or desire to escape, 
which made them less suspicious of us ; but in 
the dead of night, as we lay in a thick canebrake 
by a large fire, when sleep had locked up their 
senses, my situation not disposing me for rest, I 
touched my companion, and gently awoke him. 
We improved this favorable opportunity, and de¬ 
parted, leaving them to take their rest, and speedily 
directed our course toward our old camp, but found 
it plundered, and the company dispersed and gone 
home. About this time my brother, Squire Boone, 
with another adventurer, who came to explore the 
country shortly after us, was wandering through 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 147 


the forest, determined to find me if possible, and 
accidentally found our camp. Notwithstanding 
the unfortunate circumstances of our company, and 
our dangerous situation, as surrounded with hos¬ 
tile savages, our meeting so fortunately in the 
wilderness made us reciprocally sensible of the 
utmost satisfaction. So much does friendship tri¬ 
umph over misfortune, that sorrows and sufferings 
vanish at the meeting not only of real friends, but 
of the most distant acquaintances, and substitute 
happiness in their room. 

Soon after this, my companion in captivity, John 
Stewart, was killed by the savages, and the man 
that came with my brother returned home by him¬ 
self. We were then in a dangerous, helpless sit¬ 
uation, exposed daily to perils and death among 
savages and wild beasts—not a white man in the 
country but ourselves. 

Thus situated, many hundred miles from our 
families in the bowling wilderness, I believe few 
would have equally enjoyed the happiness we ex¬ 
perienced. I often observed to my brother, “ You 
see now how little nature requires, to be satisfied. 
Felicity, the companion of content, is rather found 
in our own breasts than in the enjoyment of ex¬ 
ternal things ; and I firmly believe it requires but 
a little philosophy to make a man happy in what¬ 
soever state he is. This consists in a full resig¬ 
nation to the will of Providence; and a resigned 


148 


APPENDIX. 


soul finds pleasure in a path strewed with briers 
and thorns.” 

We continued not in a state of indolence, but 
hunted every day, and prepared a little cottage to 
defend us from the winter storms. We remained 
there undisturbed during the winter; and on the 
1st day of May, 1770, my brother returned home 
to the settlement by himself, for a new recruit of 
horses and ammunition, leaving me by myself, 
without bread, salt, or sugar, without company of 
my fellow-creatures, or even a horse or dog. I 
confess I never before was under greater neces¬ 
sity of exercising philosophy and fortitude. A 
few days I passed uncomfortably. The idea of a 
beloved wife and family, and their anxiety upon 
the account of my absence and exposed situation, 
made sensible impressions on my heart. A thou¬ 
sand dreadful apprehensions presented themselves 
to my view, and had undoubtedly disposed me to 
melancholy, if further indulged. 

One day I undertook a tour through the country, 
and the diversity and beauties of nature I met 
with in this charming season, expelled every 
gloomy and vexatious thought. Just at the close 
of day the gentle gales retired, and left the place 
to the disposal of a profound calm. Not a breeze 
shook the most tremulous leaf. I had gained the 
summit of a commanding ridge, and, looking round 
with astonishing delight, beheld the ample plains, 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 149 

the beauteous tracts below. On the other hand, 
I surveyed the famous river Ohio that rolled in 
silent- dignity, marking the western boundary of 
Kentucky with inconceivable grandeur. At a vast 
distance I beheld the mountains lift their venera¬ 
ble brows, and penetrate the clouds. All things 
were still. I kindled a fire near a fountain of 
sweet water, and feasted on the loin of a buck, 
which a few hours before I had killed. The sul¬ 
len shades of night soon overspread the whole 
hemisphere, and the earth seemed to gasp after 
the hovering moisture. My roving excursion this 
day had fatigued my body, and diverted my im¬ 
agination. I laid me down to sleep, and I awoke 
not until the sun had chased away the night. I 
continued this tour, and in a few days explored a 
considerable part of the country, each day equally 
pleased as the first. I returned again to my old 
camp, which was not disturbed in my absence 
I did not confine my lodging to it, but often reposed 
in thick canebrakes, to avoid the savages, who, I 
believe, often visited my camp, but, fortunately for 
me, in my absence. In this situation I was con¬ 
stantly exposed to danger and death. How un¬ 
happy such a situation for a man tormented with 
fear, which is vain if no danger comes, and if it 
does, only augments the pain ! It was my happi¬ 
ness to be destitute of this afflicting j&ssion, with 
which I had the greatest reason to be affected. 
13 * 


150 


APPENDIX. 


The prowling wolves diverted my nocturnal hours 
with perpetual howlings ; and the various species 
of animals in this vast forest, in the daytime, were 
continually in my view. 

Thus I was surrounded by plenty in the midst 
of want. 1 was happy in the midst of dangers 
and inconveniences. In such a diversity, it was 
impossible I should be disposed to melancholy. 
No populous city, with all the varieties of com¬ 
merce and stately structures, could afford so much 
pleasure to my mind as the beauties of nature I 
found here. 

Thus, through an uninterrupted scene of sylvan 
pleasures, I spent the time until the 27th day of 
July following, when my brother, to my great fe¬ 
licity, met me, according to appointment, at our 
old camp. Shortly after, we left this place, not 
thinking it safe to stay there longer, and proceeded 
to Cumberland river, reconnoitring that part of the 
country until March, 1771, and giving names to 
the different waters. 

Soon after, I returned home to my family, with 
a determination to bring them as soon as possible 
to live in Kentucky, which I esteemed a second 
paradise, at the risk of my life and fortune. 

I returned safe to my old habitation, and found 
my family in happy circumstances. I sold my 
farm on the Yadkin, and what goods we could not 
carry with us ; and on the 25th day of September, 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 151 

1773, bade a farewell to our friends, and proceed¬ 
ed on our journey to Kentucky, in company with 
five families more, and forty men that joined us in 
Powel’s Valley, which is one hundred and fifty 
miles from the now settled parts of Kentucky. 
This promising beginning was soon overcast with 
a cloud of adversity; for, upon the 10th day of 
October, the rear of our company was attacked 
by a number of Indians, who killed six, and 
wounded one man. Of these, my eldest son was 
one that fell in the action. Though we defended 
ourselves, and repulsed the enemy, yet this un¬ 
happy affair scattered our cattle, brought us into 
extreme difficulty, and so discouraged the whole 
company, that we retreated forty miles, to the set¬ 
tlement on Clinch river. We had passed over 
two mountains, viz., Powel’s and Walden’s, and 
were approaching Cumberland mountain when this 
adverse fortune overtook us. These mountains 
are in the wilderness, as we pass from the old 
settlements in Virginia to Kentucky, are ranged 
in a southwest and northeast direction, are of a 
great length and breadth, and not far distant from 
each other. Over these, nature hath formed pas¬ 
ses that are less difficult than might be expected, 
from a view of such huge piles. The aspect of 
these cliffs is so wild and horrid, that it is impos¬ 
sible to behold them without terror. The specta¬ 
tor is apt to imagine that nature had formerly suf- 


152 


APPENDIX. 


fered some violent convulsion, and that these are 
the dismembered remains of the dreadful shock: 
the ruins, not of Persepolis or Palmyra, but of tho 
world ! 

I remained with my family on Clinch until the 
6th of June, 1774, when I and one Michael Stoner 
were solicited by Governor Dunmore of Virginia 
to go to the falls of the Ohio, to conduct into the 
settlement a number of surveyors that had been 
sent thither by him some months before ; this coun¬ 
try having about this time drawn the attention of 
many adventurers. We immediately complied 
with the Governor’s request, and conducted in the 
surveyors—completing a tour of eight hundred 
miles, through many difficulties, in sixty-two 
days. 

Soon after I returned home, I was ordered to 
take the command of three garrisons during the 
campaign which Governor Dunmore carried on 
against the Shawanese Indians ; after the conclu¬ 
sion of which, the militia was discharged from 
each garrison, and I, being relieved from my post, 
was solicited by a number of North Carolina gen¬ 
tlemen, that were about purchasing the lands lying 
on the south side of Kentucky river, from the 
Cherokee Indians, to attend their treaty at Wataga, 
in March, 1775, to negotiate with them, and men 
tion the boundaries of the purchase. This I ac¬ 
cepted ; and, at the request of the same gentle- 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 153 


men, undertook to mark out a road in the best 
passage from the settlement through the wilder¬ 
ness to Kentucky, with such assistance as I 
thought necessary to employ for such an impor¬ 
tant undertaking. 

I soon began this work, having collected a num¬ 
ber of enterprising men, well armed. We pro¬ 
ceeded with all possible expedition until we came 
within fifteen miles of where Boonesborough now 
stands, and where we were fired upon by a party 
of Indians that killed two, and wounded two of 
our number ; yet, although surprised and taken at 
a disadvantage, we stood our ground. This was 
on the 20th of March, 1775. Three days after, 
we were fired upon again, and had two men killed, 
and three wounded. Afterward we proceeded on 
to Kentucky river without opposition ; and on the 
1st day of April began to erect the fort of Boones¬ 
borough at a salt lick, about sixty yards from the 
river, on the south side. 

On the fourth day, the Indians killed one of our 
men. We were busily employed in building this 
fort until the 14th day of June following, without 
any further opposition from the Indians ; and hav¬ 
ing finished the works, I returned to my family, on 
Clinch. 

In a short time I proceeded to remove my family 
from Clinch to this garrison, where we arrived 
safe, without any other difficulties than such as 


154 


APPENDIX. 


are common to this passage; my wife and daugh¬ 
ter being the first white women that ever stood on 
the banks of Kentucky river. 

On the 24th day of December following, we 
had one man killed, and one wounded, by the In¬ 
dians, who seemed determined to persecute us for 
erecting this fortification. 

On the 14th day of July, 1776, two of Colonel 
Calaway’s daughters, and one of mine, were taken 
prisoners near the fort. I immediately pursued 
the Indians with only eight men, and on the 16th 
overtook them, killed two of the party, and recov¬ 
ered the girls. The same day on which this at¬ 
tempt was made, the Indians divided themselves 
into different parties, and attacked several forts, 
which were shortly before this time erected, doing 
a great deal of mischief. This was. extremely 
distressing to the new settlers. The innocent 
husbandman was shot down, while busy in culti¬ 
vating the soil for his family’s supply. Most of 
the cattle around the stations were destroyed. 
They continued their hostilities in this manner 
until the 15th of April, 1777, when they attacked 
Boonesborough with a party of above one hundred 
in number, killed one man, and wounded four. 
Their loss in this attack was not certainly known 
to us. 

On the 4th day of July following, a party of 
about two hundred Indians attacked Boonesbo- 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 155 

rough, killed one man, and wounded two. They 
besieged us forty-eight hours, during which time 
seven of them were killed, and, at last, finding 
themselves not likely to prevail, they raised the 
siege, and departed. 

The Indians had disposed their warriors in dif¬ 
ferent parties at this time, and attacked the dif¬ 
ferent garrisons, to prevent their assisting each 
other, and did much injury to the distressed in¬ 
habitants. 

On the 19th day of this month, Colonel Logan’s 
fort was besieged by a party of about two hundred 
Indians. During this dreadful siege they did a 
great deal of mischief, distressed the garrison, in 
which were only fifteen men, killed two, and 
wounded one. The enemy’s loss was uncertain, 
from the common practice which the Indians have 
of carrying off their dead in time of battle. 
Colonel Harrod’s fort was then defended by only 
sixty-five men, and Boonesborough by twenty-two, 
there being no more forts or white men in the 
country, except at the Falls, a considerable dis¬ 
tance from these : and all, taken collectively, were 
but a handful to the numerous warriors that were 
everywhere dispersed through the country, intent 
upon doing all the mischief that savage barbarity 
could invent. Thus we passed through a scene 
of sufferings that exceeds description. 

On the 25th of this month, a reinforcement of 


156 


APPENDIX. 


forty-five men arrived from North Carolina, and 
about the 20th of August following, Colonel Bow¬ 
man arrived with one hundred men from Virginia. 
Now we began to strengthen; and hence, for the 
space of six weeks, we had skirmishes with 
Indians, in one quarter or other, almost every 
day. 

The savages now learned the superiority of the 
Long Knife, as they call the Virginians, by expe¬ 
rience ; being outgeneralled in almost every battle. 
Our affairs began to wear a new aspect, and the 
enemy, not daring to venture on open war, prac¬ 
tised secret mischief at times. 

On the 1st day of January, 1778, I went with 
a party of thirty men to the Blue Licks, on Lick¬ 
ing river, to make salt for the different garrisons 
in the country. 

On the 7th day of February, as I was hunting 
to procure meat for the company, I met with a 
party of one hundred and two Indians, and two 
Frenchmen, on their march against Boonesborough, 
that place being particularly the object of the 
enemy. 

They pursued, and took me ; and brought me 
on the 8th day to the Licks, where twenty-seven 
of my party were, three of them having previously 
returned home with the salt. I, knowing it was 
impossible for them to escape, capitulated with 
the enemy, and, at a distance, in their view, 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 157 


gave notice to my men of their situation, with 
orders not to resist, but surrender themselves 
captives. 

The generous usage the Indians had promised 
before in my capitulation, was afterward fully 
complied with, and we proceeded with them as 
prisoners to Old Chilicothe, the principal Indian 
town on Little Miami, where we arrived, after an 
uncomfortable journey in very severe weather, on 
the 18th day of February, and received as good 
treatment as prisoners could expect from savages. 
On the 10th day of March following, I and ten of 
my men were conducted by forty Indians to De¬ 
troit, where we arrived the 30th day, and were 
treated by Governor Hamilton, the British com¬ 
mander at that post, with great humanity. 

During our travels, the Indians entertained me 
well, and their affection for me was so great, that 
they utterly refused to leave me there with the 
others, although the Governor offered them one 
hundred pounds sterling for me, on purpose to give 
me a parole to go home. Several English gen¬ 
tlemen there, being sensible of my adverse for¬ 
tune, and touched with human sympathy, gener¬ 
ously offered a friendly supply for my wants, 
which I refused, with many thanks for their kind¬ 
ness—adding, that I never expected it would be 
in my power to recompense such unmerited gen¬ 
erosity. 


14 


158 


APPENDIX. 


The Indians left my men in captivity with the 
British at Detroit, and on the 10th day of April 
brought me toward Old Chilicothe, where we ar¬ 
rived on the 25th day of the same month. This 
was a long and fatiguing march, through an ex¬ 
ceeding fertile country, remarkable for fine springs 
and streams of water. At Chilicothe I spent my 
time as comfortably as I could expect; was adopt¬ 
ed, according to their custom, into a family, where 
I became a son, and had a great share in the af¬ 
fection of my new parents, brothers, sisters, and 
friends. I was exceedingly familiar and friendly 
with them, always appearing as cheerful and sat¬ 
isfied as possible, and they put great confidence in 
me. I often went a hunting with them, and fre¬ 
quently gained their applause for my activity at 
our shooting-matches. I was careful not to ex¬ 
ceed many of them in shooting ; for no people are 
more envious than they in this sport. I could 
observe, in their countenances and gestures, the 
greatest expressions of joy when they exceeded 
me ; and, when the reverse happened, of envy. 
The Shawanese king took great notice of me, and 
treated me with profound respect and entire friend¬ 
ship, often intrusting me to hunt at my liberty. I 
frequently returned with the spoils of the woods, 
and as often presented some of what I had taken 
to him, expressive of duty to my sovereign. My 
food and lodging were in common with them; not 


THE ADVENTURES OP DANIEL BOONE. 159 


so good, indeed, as I could desire, but necessity 
made everything acceptable. 

I now began to meditate an escape, and care¬ 
fully avoided their suspicions, continuing with 
them at Old Chilicothe until the 1st day of June 
following, and then was taken by them to the salt 
springs on Scioto, and kept there making salt ten 
days. During this time I hunted some for them, 
and found the land, for a great extent about this 
river, to exceed the soil of Kentucky, if possible, 
and remarkably well watered. 

When I returned to Chilicothe, alarmed to see 
four hundred and fifty Indians, of their choicest 
warriors, painted and armed in a fearful manner, 
ready to march against Boonesborough, I deter¬ 
mined to escape the first opportunity. 

On the 16th, before sunrise, I departed in the 
most secret manner, and arrived at Boonesbo¬ 
rough on the 20th, after a journey of one hun¬ 
dred and sixty miles, during which I had but one 
meal. 

I found our fortress in a bad state of defence ; 
but we proceeded immediately to repair our flanks, 
strengthen our gates and posterns, and form double 
bastions, which we completed in ten days. In 
this time we daily expected the arrival of the In¬ 
dian army; and at length, one of my fellow-pris¬ 
oners, escaping from them, arrived, informing us 
that the enemy had, on account of my departure, 


160 


APPENDIX. 


postponed their expedition ihree weeks. The 
Indians had spies out viewing our movements, and 
were greatly alarmed with our increase in num¬ 
ber and fortifications. The grand councils of the 
nations were held frequently, and with more de 
liberation than usual. They evidently saw the 
approaching hour when the Long Knife would 
dispossess them of their desirable habitations; 
and, anxiously concerned for futurity, determined 
utterly to extirpate the whites out of Kentucky. 
We were not intimidated by their movements, but 
frequently gave them proofs of our courage. 

About the first of August, I made an incursion 
into the Indian country with a party of nineteen 
men, in order to surprise a small town up Scioto, 
called Paint Creek Town. We advanced within 
four miles thereof, where we met a party of thirty 
Indians on their march against Boonesborough, 
intending to join the others from Chilicothe. A 
smart fight ensued between us for some time ; at 
length the savages gave way and fled. We had 
no loss on our side; the enemy had one killed, 
and two w r ounded. We took from them three 
horses, and all their baggage ; and being informed, 
by two of our number that went to their town, that 
the Indians had entirely evacuated it, we proceed¬ 
ed no further, and returned with all possible expe¬ 
dition to assist our garrison against the other 
party. We passed by them on the sixth day, 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 161 

and on the seventh we arrived safe at Boonesbo- 
rough. 

On the 8th, the Indian army arrived, being four 
hundred and forty-four in number, commanded by 
Captain Duquesne, eleven other Frenchmen, and 
some of their own chiefs, and marched up within 
view of our fort, with British and French colors 
flying ; and having sent a summons to me, in 
his Britannic Majesty’s name, to surrender the 
fort, I requested two days’ consideration, which 
was granted. 

It was now a critical period with us. We were 
a small number in the garrison—a powerful army 
before our walls, whose appearance proclaimed 
inevitable death, fearfully painted, and marking 
their footsteps with desolation. Death was prefer¬ 
able to captivity; and if taken by storm, we must 
inevitably be devoted to destruction. In this situ¬ 
ation we concluded to maintain our garrison, if 
possible. We immediately proceeded to collect 
what we could of our horses and other cattle, and 
bring them through the posterns into the fort; and 
in the evening of the 9th, I returned answer that 
we were determined to defend our fort while a 
man was living. “Now,” said I to their com¬ 
mander, who stood attentively hearing my senti¬ 
ments, “ we laugh at your formidable preparations ; 
but thank you for giving us notice and time to 
provide for our defence. Your efforts will not 
14 * 


162 


APPENDIX. 


prevail; for our gates shall for ever deny you ad¬ 
mittance.” Whether this answer affected their 
courage or not I can not tell; but, contrary to our 
expectations, they formed a scheme to deceive us, 
declaring it was their orders, from Governor Ham¬ 
ilton, to take us captives, and not to destroy us ; 
but if nine of us would come out, and treat with 
them, they would immediately withdraw their 
forces from our walls, and return home peaceably. 
This sounded grateful in our ears ; and we agreed 
to the proposal. 

We held the treaty within sixty yards of the 
garrison, on purpose to divert them from a breach 
of honor, as we could not avoid suspicions of the 
savages. In this situation the articles were for¬ 
mally agreed to, and signed; and the Indians told 
us it was customary with them on such occasions 
for two Indians to shake hands with every white 
man in the treaty, as an evidence of entire friend¬ 
ship. We agreed to this also, but were soon con¬ 
vinced their policy was to take us prisoners. 
They immediately grappled us ; but, although sur¬ 
rounded by hundreds of savages, we extricated 
ourselves from them, and escaped all safe into the 
garrison, except one that was wounded, through a 
heavy fire from their army. They immediately 
attacked us on every side, and a constant heavy 
fire ensued between us, day and night, for the 
space of nine days. 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 163 

In this time the enemy began to undermine our 
fort, which was situated sixty yards from Ken¬ 
tucky river. They began at the water-mark, and 
proceeded in the bank some distance, which we 
understood, by their making the water muddy with 
the clay ; and we immediately proceeded to dis¬ 
appoint their design, by cutting a trench across 
their subterranean passage. The enemy, discov¬ 
ering our counter-mine, by the clay we threw out 
of the fort, desisted from that stratagem : and ex¬ 
perience now fully convincing them that neither 
their power nor policy could effect their purpose, 
on the 20th day of August they raised the siege 
and departed. 

During this siege, which threatened death in 
every form, we had two men killed, and four wound¬ 
ed, besides a number of cattle. We killed of the 
enemy thirty-seven, and wounded a great number. 
After they were gone, we picked up one hundred 
and twenty-five pounds weight of bullets, besides 
what stuck in the logs of our fort, which certainly 
is a great proof of their industry. Soon after this, 
I went into the settlement, and nothing worthy of 
a place in this account passed in my affairs for 
some time. 

During my absence from Kentucky, Colonel 
Bowman carried on an expedition against the 
Shawanese, at Old Chilicothe, with one hundred 
and sixty men, in July, 1779. Here they arrived 


164 


APPENDIX. 


undiscovered, and a battle ensued, which lasted 
until ten o’clock, A. M., when Colonel Bowman, 
finding he could not succeed at this time, retreat¬ 
ed about thirty miles. The Indians, in the mean 
time, collecting all their forces, pursued and over¬ 
took him, when a smart fight continued near two 
hours, not to the advantage of Colonel Bowman’s 
party. 

Colonel Harrod proposed to mount a number 
of horse, and furiously to rush upon the savages, 
who at this time fought with remarkable fury. 
This desperate step had a happy effect, broke 
their line of battle, and the savages fled on all 
sides. In these two battles we had nine killed, 
and one wounded. The enemy’s loss uncertain, 
only two scalps being taken. 

On the 22d day of June, 1780, a large party of 
Indians and Canadians, about six hundred in num¬ 
ber, commanded by Colonel Bird, attacked Rid¬ 
dle’s and Martin’s stations, at the forks of Licking 
river, with six pieces of artillery. They carried 
this expedition so secretly, that the unwary inhab¬ 
itants did not discover them until they fired upon 
the forts ; and, not being prepared to oppose them, 
were obliged to surrender themselves miserable 
captives to barbarous savages, who immediately 
after tomahawked one man and two women, and 
loaded all the others with heavy baggage, forcing 
them along toward their towns, able or unable to 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 165 

raarch. Such as were weak and faint by the way, 
they tomahawked. The tender women and help¬ 
less children fell victims to their cruelty. This, 
and the savage treatment they received afterward, 
is shocking to humanity, and too barbarous to 
relate. 

The hostile disposition of the savages and theii 
allies caused General Clarke, the commandant at 
the Falls of the Ohio, immediately to begin an ex¬ 
pedition with his own regiment, and the armed 
force of the country, against Pecaway, the princi¬ 
pal town of the Shawanese, on a branch of Great 
Miami, which he finished with great success, took 
seventeen scalps, and burnt the town to ashes, 
with the loss of seventeen men. 

About this time I returned to Kentucky with 
my family; and here, to avoid an inquiry into my 
conduct, the reader being before informed of my 
bringing my family to Kentucky, I am under the 
necessity of informing him that, during my cap¬ 
tivity with the Indians, my wife, who despaired 
of ever seeing me again—expecting the Indians 
had put a period to my life, oppressed with the 
distresses of the country, and bereaved of me, her 
only happiness—had, before I returned, transport¬ 
ed my family and goods, on horses, through the 
wilderness, amid a multitude of dangers, to her 
father’s house in North Carolina. 

Shortly after the troubles at Boonesborough, I 


166 


APPENDIX. 


went to them, and lived peaceably there until this 
time. The history of my going home, and return¬ 
ing with my family, forms a series of difficulties, 
an account of which would swell a volume ; and, 
being foreig.n to my purpose, I shall purposely 
omit them. 

I settled my family in Boonesborough once 
more; and shortly after, on the 6th day of Octo¬ 
ber, 1780, I went in company with my brother to 
the Blue Licks ; and, on our return home, we were 
fired upon by a party of Indians. They shot him, 
and pursued me, by the scent of their dog, three 
miles ; but I killed the dog, and escaped. The 
winter soon came on, and was very severe, which 
confined the Indians to their wigwams. 

The severity of this winter caused great diffi¬ 
culties in Kentucky. The enemy had destroyed 
most of the corn the summer before. This neces¬ 
sary article was scarce and dear, and the inhab¬ 
itants lived chiefly on the flesh of buffalo. The 
circumstances of many were very lamentable : 
however, being a hardy race of people, and accus¬ 
tomed to difficulties and necessities, they were 
wonderfully supported through all their sufferings, 
until the ensuing autumn, when we received 
abundance from the fertile soil. 

Toward spring we were frequently harassed by 
Indians ; and in May, 1782, a party assaulted 
Ashton’s station, killed one man, and took a 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 167 

negro prisoner. Captain Ashton, with twenty- 
five men, pursued and overtook the savages, and 
a smart fight ensued, which lasted two hours; but 
they, being superior in number, obliged Captain 
Ashton’s party to retreat, with the loss of eight 
killed, and four mortally wounded ; their brave 
commander himself being numbered among the 
dead. 

The Indians continued their hostilities ; and, 
about the 10th of August following, two boys were 
taken from Major Hoy’s station. This party was 
pursued by Captain Holder and seventeen men, 
who were also defeated, with the loss of four men 
killed, and one wounded. Our affairs became 
more and more alarming. Several stations which 
had lately been erected in the country were con¬ 
tinually infested with savages, stealing their horses 
and killing the men at every opportunity. In a 
field, near Lexington, an Indian shot a man, and 
running to scalp him, was himself shot from the 
fort, and fell dead upon his enemy. 

Every day we experienced recent mischiefs. 
The barbarous savage nations of Shawanese, Cher- 
okees, YVyandots, Tawas, Delawares, and several 
others near Detroit, united in a war against us, 
and assembled their choicest warriors at Old 
Chilicothe, to go on the expedition, in order to 
destroy us, and entirely depopulate the country. 
Their savage minds were inflamed to mischief by 


168 


APPENDIX. 


two abandoned men, Captains M‘Kee and Girty. 
These led them to execute every diabolical scheme, 
and on the 15th day of August, commanded a party 
of Indians and Canadians, of about five hundred in 
number, against Bryant’s station, five miles from 
Lexington. Without demanding a surrender, they 
furiously assaulted the garrison, which was hap¬ 
pily prepared to oppose them ; and, after they had 
expended much ammunition in vain, and killed the 
cattle round the fort, not being likely to make 
themselves masters of this place, they raised the 
siege, and departed in the morning of the third 
day after they came, with the loss of about thirty 
killed, and the number of wounded uncertain. 
Of the garrison, four were killed, and three 
wounded. 

On the 18th day, Colonel Todd, Colonel Trigg, 
Major Harland, and myself, speedily collected 
one hundred and seventy-six men, well armed, 
and pursued the savages. They had marched 
beyond the Blue Licks, to a remarkable bend of 
the main fork of Licking river, about forty-three 
miles from Lexington, where we overtook them 
on the 19th day. The savages observing us, gave 
way; and we, being ignorant of their numbers, 
passed the river. When the enemy saw our pro¬ 
ceedings, having greatly the advantage of us in 
situation, they formed the line of battle, from one 
bend of Licking to the other, about a mile from 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 169 

the Blue Licks. An exceeding fierce battle im¬ 
mediately began, for about fifteen minutes, when 
we, being overpowered by numbers, were obliged 
to retreat, with the loss of sixty-seven men, seven 
of whom were taken prisoners. The brave and 
much-lamented Colonels Todd and Trigg, Major 
Harland, and my second son, were among the 
dead. We were informed that the Indians, num¬ 
bering their dead, found they had four killed 
more than we ; and therefore four of the pris¬ 
oners they had taken were, by general consent, 
ordered to be killed in a most barbarous manner 
by the young warriors, in order to train them 
up to cruelty ; and then they proceeded to their 
towns. 

On our retreat we were met by Colonel Logan, 
hastening to join us, with a number of well-armed 
men. This powerful assistance we unfortunately 
wanted in the battle ; for, notwithstanding the 
enemy’s superiority of numbers, they acknowl¬ 
edged, that, if they had received one more fire 
from us, they should undoubtedly have given way. 
So valiantly did our small party fight, that, to the 
memory of those who unfortunately fell in the 
battle, enough of honor can not be paid. Had 
Colonel Logan and his party been with us, it is 
highly probable we should have given the savages 
a total defeat. 

I can not reflect upon this dreadful scene, but 

15 


170 


APPENDIX. 


sorrow fills my heart. A zeal for the defence of 
their country led these heroes to the scene of ac¬ 
tion, though with a few men to attack a powerful 
army of experienced warriors. When we gave 
way, they pursued us with the utmost eagerness, 
and in every quarter spread destruction. The 
river was difficult to cross, and many were killed 
in the flight—some just entering the river, some 
in the water, others after crossing, in ascending 
the cliffs. Some escaped on horseback, a few on 
foot; and, being dispersed everywhere in a few 
hours, brought the melancholy news of this un¬ 
fortunate battle to Lexington. Many widows were 
now made. The reader may guess what sorrow 
filled the hearts of the inhabitants, exceeding 
anything that I am able to describe. Being rein¬ 
forced, we returned to bury the dead, and found 
their bodies strewed everywhere, cut and man¬ 
gled in a dreadful manner. This mournful scene 
exhibited a horror almost unparalleled: some 
torn and eaten by wild beasts; those in the 
river eaten by fishes ; all in such a putrefied con¬ 
dition, that no one could be distinguished from 
another. 

As soon as General Clarke, then at the Falls 
of the Ohio—who was ever our ready friend, and 
merits the love and gratitude of all his country¬ 
men—understood the circumstances of this unfor¬ 
tunate action, he ordered an expedition, with all 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 171 


possible haste, to pursue the savages, which was 
so expeditiously effected, that we overtook them 
within two miles of their towns: and probably 
might have obtained a great victory, had not two 
of their number met us about two hundred poles 
before we came up. These returned quick as 
lightning to their camp, with the alarming news 
of a mighty army in view. The savages fled in 
the utmost disorder, evacuated their towns, and 
reluctantly left their territory to our mercy. We 
immediately took possession of Old Chilicothe 
without opposition, being deserted by its inhabit¬ 
ants. We continued our pursuit through five 
towns on the Miami rivers, Old Chilicothe, Peca- 
way, New Chilicothe, Will’s Towns, and Chili¬ 
cothe—burnt them all to ashes, entirely destroyed 
their corn, and other fruits, and everywhere 
spread a scene of desolation in the country. In 
this expedition we took seven prisoners and 
five scalps, with the loss of only four men, two 
of whom were accidentally killed by our own 
army. 

This campaign in some measure damped the 
spirits of the Indians, and made them sensible of 
our superiority. Their connexions were dissolved, 
their armies scattered, and a future invasion put 
entirely out of their power ; yet they continued to 
practise mischief secretly upon the inhabitants, in 
the exposed parts of the country. 


172 


APPENDIX. 


In October following, a party made an excur 
sion into that district called the Crab Orchard; 
and one of them, being advanced some distance 
before the others, boldly entered the house of a 
poor defenceless family, in which was only a 
negro man, a woman, and her children, terrified 
with the apprehensions of immediate death. The 
savage, perceiving their defenceless situation, 
without offering violence to the family, attempted 
to capture the negro, who happily proved an 
overmatch for him, threw him on the ground, and, 
in the struggle, the mother of the children drew 
an axe from a corner of the cottage, and cut his 
head off, while her little daughter shut the door. 
The savages instantly appeared, and applied their 
tomahawks to the door. An old rusty gun-barrel, 
without a lock, lay in a corner, which the mother 
put through a small crevice, and the savages, per¬ 
ceiving it, fled. In the mean time, the alarm 
spread through the neighborhood ; the armed men 
collected immediately, and pursued the ravagers 
into the wilderness. Thus Providence, by the 
means of this negro, saved the whole of the poor 
family from destruction. From that time until the 
happy return of peace between the United States 
and Great Britain, the Indians did us no mischief. 
Finding the great king beyond the water disap¬ 
pointed in his expectations, and conscious of the 
importance of the Long Knife, and their own 


THE ADVENTURES OF DANIEL BOONE. 173 


wretchedness, some of the nations immediately de¬ 
sired peace ; to which, at present [1784], they 
seem universally disposed, and are sending am¬ 
bassadors to General Clarke, at the Falls of the 
Ohio, with the minutes of their councils. 

To conclude, I can now say that I have verified 
the saying of an old Indian who signed Colonel 
Henderson’s deed. Taking me by the hand, at 
the delivery thereof—“ Brother,” said he, “ we 
have given you a fine land, but I believe you will 
have much trouble in settling it.” My footsteps 
have often been marked with blood, and therefore 
I can truly subscribe to its original name. Two 
darling sons and a brother have I lost by savage 
hands, which have also taken from me forty valu¬ 
able horses, and abundance of cattle. Many dark 
and sleepless nights have I been a companion for 
owls, separated from the cheerful society of men, 
scorched by the summer’s sun, and pinched by 
the winter’s cold—an instrument ordained to settle 
the wilderness. But now the scene is changed: 
peace crowns the sylvan shade. 

What thanks, what ardent and ceaseless thanks 
are due to that all-superintending Providence which 
has turned a cruel war into peace, brought order 
out of confusion, made the fierce savages placid, 
and turned away their hostile weapons from our 
country ! May the same Almighty Goodness ban¬ 
ish the accursed monster, war, from all lands, with 


174 


APPENDIX. 


her hated associates, rapine and insatiable ambi¬ 
tion ! Let peace, descending from her native 
heaven, bid her olives spring amid the joyful na¬ 
tions ; and plenty, in league with commerce, scatter 
blessings from her copious hand! 

This account of my adventures will inform the 
reader of the most remarkable events of this coun¬ 
try. I now live in peace and safety, enjoying the 
sweets of liberty, and the bounties of Providence, 
with my once fellow-sufferers, in this delightful 
country, which I have seen purchased with a vast 
expense of blood and treasure : delighting in the 
prospect of its being, in a short time, one of the 
• most opulent and powerful states on the continent 

of North America ; which, with the love and.grati- 
tude of my countrymen, I esteem a sufficient reward 
for all my toil and dangers. . 

DANIEL BOONE. 

Fayette County , Kentucky. 


THE END. 










































* 

























































.1 (i) um ^ M I T 'I I 



I). A|>|)lt‘lon,& ( ° \ r r W York . 




























CHAPTER I. 


The birth of John Smith—His boyish restlessness 
—His early adventures and wanderings — 
His return home—His wanderings resumed — 
After strange adventures , he enlists as a soldier 
against the Turks—His brilliant exploits as a 
soldier—He is taken captive at last and sold as 
a slave to the Bashaw Bogal—He sends him to 
Constantinople. 

In the life of Henry Hudson* Captain John 
Smith is spoken of as his “ earliest and most 
cherished companion.” Of all the remarkable 
men, who visited this new world for the purpose 
of planting colonies, and subduing the wilder¬ 
ness, there was none more remarkable than John 
Smith. His life was a perfect romance, filled 
with wild and roving adventures; and I think 
my young countrymen will be both instructed 
and pleased by reading his history. Here, there¬ 
fore, it is. 

* See volume I. of A Library for niy Young Countrymen. 

2 


16 


JOHN SMITH. 


treated him with great generosity, foj he gave 
him money, that he might return to England, 
and live among his friends. 

Yet Smith had no thought of returning home, 
and now it was that his travels fairly com¬ 
menced. He first went to Paris, and after 
spending a little time there, he started for Hol¬ 
land. There was in him always a love of 
military life, a sort of military ardor; and 
I have supposed that # he moved toward the 
“ Low Countries,” because, at that time, this 
was the battle-ground of Europe. A struggle 
was then going on between this country and 
Spain. Certain it is, that he had scarcely reach¬ 
ed the country, when he enlisted as a soldier; and 
now, for some time, he served in the army, 
greatly delighted with his new occupation. His 
restless spirit, however, grew weary at last, even 
of this. Meeting with a Scotch gentleman, (Mr. 
David Hume,) he was supplied by him with 
money, and letters to his friends in Scotland, 
and advised to go with him to that country. 
The principal inducement for his going was, (as 
his Scotch friend assured him,) that he would 
there find friendship and favor at the hands of 
King James. Now, then, he embarked for Scot¬ 
land. After suffering from shipwreck, and a 


JOHN SMITH 


17 


violent fit of sickness, he at length arrived there, 
and delivered his letters. These letters procured 
for him kind attention, and he was treated with 
great hospitality—though as far as the king 
was concerned, he met with little patronage and 
encouragement. His heart, therefore, began to 
turn homeward, and he soon started off for his 
native town, Willoughby. 

Upon his arrival, his friends were all delighted 
to see him, and were greatly pleased to hear him 
recount his travels. But this being over, he soon 
tired of the companions around him: and now 
he went to the woods and built him a little 
booth, where he might live alone to himself. 
Here he became very industrious in pursuing 
his studies. His fondness for a soldier’s life 
set him upon the study of military history and 
tactics; and from time to time he would amuse 
himself with sports of hunting and horseman¬ 
ship. His books, his horse, and his lance were 
almost the only objects that interested him. Af¬ 
ter a time, it became generally known that 
he was living in this quiet way: his strange 
habits were much talked of, and this induced an 
Italian gentleman, who was himself a great 
horseman, to visit him. He soon made the ac¬ 
quaintance of Smith, (for their tastes were alike,) 
2 * 


18 


JOHN SMITH. 


and at length persuaded him to leave his retire¬ 
ment, and come back into the world. His little 
lodge, therefore, was now deserted. 

His restless spirit soon prompted him again 
to roam. He now had the means of travelling, 
(for he had received his portion of his father’s 
estate,) and in spite of the remonstrances and 
entreaties of his friends, he resolved upon start¬ 
ing once more. Again led, I suppose, by his mili¬ 
tary ardor, he embarked for Flanders, hoping to 
play the part of a soldier against the Turks. But 
here his plans were altered. Accidentally meet¬ 
ing with four Frenchmen, (one of whom passed 
for a nobleman, and the other three for his attend¬ 
ants,) he was persuaded to join them, and travel 
with them into France. These men were vil¬ 
lains, who noticing the youth and inexperience 
of Smith, (for he was now only nineteen, some 
say seventeen, years of age,) had resolved upon 
robbing him. They all accordingly embarked for 
France. It was a dark night when they arrived 
at St. Valery, in Picardy; and now these im¬ 
postors had made so much of a friend of their 
captain, who was a villain like themselves, that 
they were prepared to carry their plan into ex¬ 
ecution. Accordingly, these four Frenchmen, 
with the captain at their head, now went ashore 


JOHN SMITH. 


19 


in the boat, taking with them the trunks of 
Smith. The next morning the captain returned 
with the boat. Upon being asked why he had 
been gone so long, he stated, that he had been 
prevented from returning by the high sea: but 
the truth was, he had delayed only that his 
thievish companions might escape with their 
plunder before it was possible to overtake them. 
The crew suspected the villany of the com¬ 
mander, (for the luggage of Smith was now 
missed,) and it is said that they proposed to 
Smith to kill him, and seize the vessel and car¬ 
go. This, however, he very properly refused to 
do, and thus went ashore, poor and friendless. 
Indeed, his poverty was now so great, that he 
sold part of his clothing to pay his passage. 

One of the sailors now took compassion upon 
him, and paying his expenses, they travelled to¬ 
gether as far as Mortaine, where the villains 
lived, (for this sailor, it seems, knew them.) His 
journey proved useless, as far as his trunks were 
concerned, for being poor and without friends, 
he found it impossible to recover any part of his 
property. His desolate situation, however, called 
out the sympathy of many good people, and he 
was invited to their homes, kindly treated, and 
supplied with further sums of money. 


20 


JOHN SMITH. 


Still eager to pursue his travels, and unwilling 
to remain, receiving favors which he could not 
return, he resolved upon leaving this place. 
With a light heart, therefore, he started on foot 
toward the sea-shore, hoping, in some one of 
the seaport towns, to find a ship in which he 
might embark. In his wanderings, his money 
was soon again exhausted. It was during this 
journey that he accidentally met one day, pear 
Dinan, one of the villains who had robbed him. 
Without saying a word, they both instantly drew 
their swords. A crowd gathered around them; 
Smith had wounded him, and he forced the 
Frenchman to confess his guilt before the whole 
multitude. This, however, was all he obtained, 
for he found none of his property. Before he 
reached the sea-shore, he suffered many priva¬ 
tions. It is said, that after wandering one day 
through a forest, he was so much exhausted to¬ 
ward evening, by fatigue and exposure, that he 
threw himself down by a fountain, expecting to 
die there; and would probably have died, had 
not a kind farmer discovered him, and once more 
supplied his wants. 

He now remembered an old friend, whom he 
had seen before, (the Earl of Ployer,) and knew r , 
if he could reach him, he would receive sympathy 


JOHN SMITH. 


21 


and assistance. • Accordingly, he managed to 
reach the home of this friend, and found all his 
hopes realized. The Earl treated him with 
marked kindness, and furnished him with money 
for his journey. He now travelled along the 
French coast to Ba^nne, and thence crossed 
over to Marseilles, noticing particularly, by the 
way, any and every thing that fed his passion 
for naval and military exploits. At Marseilles 
he found a ship ready to sail for Italy. 

In this ship it happened that there were a 
number of pilgrims, going to Rome. Smith, 
however, took passage with them, and new 
troubles soon met him on the voyage. A storm 
at first drove the vessel into the harbor of Tou¬ 
lon: after the tempest had passed away, and 
they were again on their voyage, head winds 
ere long met them, and they w T ere forced to an¬ 
chor under the little island of Saint Mary, off 
Nice, in Savoy. Here the pilgrims began to 
murmur and complain. Their bigotry and mad¬ 
ness induced them to suppose that Smith was 
the cause of their troubles, because he was what 
they called a heretic. They abused him, because 
he was a Protestant, and Queen Elizabeth of 
England, because she was known to protect 
the Protestant religion: and they were scarcely 


22 


JOHN SMITH. 


again under way, when their madness carried 
them so far, that they seized Smith, and without 
any mercy, threw him overboard. What became 
of the pilgrims, I cannot say, hut a merciful 
Providence watched over Smith, and sustained 
him through the struggle of swimming back to 
the island. Weak and exhausted, he was in a 
pitiable condition. He found no one near him— 
yet, with a heart of hope, he raised signals, 
trusting that some ship passing by might mark 
his distress. Fortunately, next day, a ship of 
Saint Malo put in at the island for shelter, and 
doubly fortunate he was when he found that the 
commander of this ship was Captain La Roche, 
a friend and neighbor to his old friend, the Earl 
of Ployer. Of course, Smith now met with every 
attention. In a little time the vessel proceeded 
on her voyage to Alexandria, in Egypt. Thence 
she coasted the Levant. On her return home¬ 
ward, she fell in with a Venetian vessel. The 
French captain tried to speak her, but was an¬ 
swered only by “ a broadside,” (the French ship 
being mistaken, I suppose, for a pirate.) A 
sharp action now commenced—Smith bearing 
a bold part in it. After a hard contest, the 
Venetian ship was taken, and found to be very 
richly laden. All that was valuable was seized, 


JOHN SMITH. 


23 


and the conquerors divided the spoils. Smith, 
for his valor, received as his share, a box con¬ 
taining a thousand sequins, (about two thousand 
dollars.) At his own request now he was landed 
on the shore of Piedmont, and, with abundance 
of money, travelled through Italy, marking every 
thing that was interesting. His desire for mili¬ 
tary glory was, however, still uppermost in his 
heart, and crossing the Adriatic, he travelled on 
till he came to Gratz, in Styria, the seat of Fer¬ 
dinand, the Archduke of Austria. War was at 
this time raging between the Germans and the 
Turks; and Smith, finding two of his country¬ 
men at the place, was soon introduced to Lord 
Eberspaught, Baron Kizel, Count Meldritch, 
and other officers of distinction. He at once en¬ 
listed as a volunteer, to serve in the army against 
the Turks. 

It was not long now, before his genius had 
full scope to shew itself. The Turkish army, 
(twenty thousand strong,) under Ibrahim Pasha, 
having ravaged the neighboring country, were 
now laying siege to the strong town of Olym- 
pach. Lord Eberspaught was here, shut up with 
his army, and cut off from all supplies and com¬ 
munication with his friends. Smith served in 
Baron Kizel’s army, who was endeavoring to 


24 


JOHN SMITH. 


help Eberspaught in his perilous condition. De¬ 
sirous of sending a message to him, and finding 
it impossible, Smith now proposed to try his 
plan for communicating with him—a plan of 
which he had formerly talked with Eberspaught. 
This was by means of a telegraph, which he had 
invented. Kizel consented, and Smith now went 
at night with a guard, to a hill in sight of the 
town, yet far enough to be unobserved by the 
Turkish army. Raising his signals, he conveyed 
to Eberspaught this message : “ Thursday night 
I will charge on the east; at the alarm sally 
thou” The signal was understood, and the an¬ 
swer came back, “ I will.”* Making ready for 
Thursday night, he prepared a number of 
matches on a string, which he extended in a 
line, in a certain direction. Just on the eve of 
the attack, these matches were fired, and ex¬ 
ploded like a roar of musketry. The Turks, 
thinking they were attacked in that quarter, sal¬ 
lied out to meet the enemy. Kizel, with his 
army, rushed upon them at the moment—the 

v 

* Smithes method of communicating was by means of 
torches. Each letter from A to L was designated by show¬ 
ing one torch as many times as corresponded to the letter’s 
place in the alphabet—each letter, from M to Z, was desig¬ 
nated by shewing two torches after the same manner. The 
end of a word was signified by shewing- three lights. 


JOHN SMITH. 


25 


men in the garrison moved at the same time— 
the Turks were routed, numbers of them were 
slain, numbers driven into the river and drown¬ 
ed, and two thousand of Kizel’s men enter¬ 
ed the garrison. The next day, the enemy 
w r as glad to abandon the siege. This gallant 
action gained great applause for Smith, and he 
was at once appointed to the command of a troop 
of two hundred and fifty horse, in the regiment 
of Count Meldritch. 

Flushed with success, the Emperor of Ger¬ 
many now resolved to prosecute the war boldly, 
and for this purpose three large armies were 
raised. Smith served in that commanded by the 
Archduke Matthias, the Emperor’s brother. The 
principal command of this force, however, devolv¬ 
ed upon the lieutenant, the Duke Mercury, and 
Smith seems to have shared his particular confi¬ 
dence. Ere long, they laid 'siege to Alba Re- 
galis, in Hungary. This was a town strongly 
fortified by the Turks. Smith’s skill here an¬ 
noyed the enemy greatly, for he managed to 
throw bombs from a sling, in the midst of them, 
and two or three times succeeded in setting the 
place on fire. After an obstinate resistance, this 
place was taken with great loss to the Turks. 
So unexpected was this result, that the Turks 
3 


26 


JOHN* SMITH. 


could hardly believe themselves routed : and it 
is said, that one of their Bashaws, upon hearing 
the sad news, would eat nothing the whole day, 
but threw himself upon the ground, and con¬ 
tinued to pray to Mahomet to deliver his coun¬ 
trymen. The Sultan, however, could not rest 
satisfied with this defeat, and sent an army of 
sixty thousand men to recapture the place. The 
Duke Mercury, hearing of the approach of this 
vast number, was not dismayed, though his num¬ 
bers were comparatively small. He marched 
out to meet them, and, after a desperate battle, 
defeated the Turks once more. The fight must 
have been tremendous, for six thousand of the 
Turks (it is said) were left dead upon the field. 
Smith bore himself as usual, gallantly, through 
the whole, escaping narrowly with his life. His 
horse was shot under him, and he was severely 
wounded. 

In a little time, he was again at the head of 
his own company, and with Count Meldritch, 
marched into Transylvania. Here the Turks 
were committing their ravages, and the Count 
felt peculiarly excited against them, because his 
family possessions lay in that region. A strong 
body of Turks, after scouring the country, had 
now fortified themselves in the town of Regal, 


JOHN SMITH. 


27 


among the mountains of Transylvania, and here 
they felt secure. With eight thousand men 
Meldritch laid siege to this place. Fortunately, 
he was soon after joined by Prince Moyses, with 
nine thousand more. The place was so strong by 
nature, and so strongly garrisoned, that the siege 
proved long, and seemed, indeed, almost useless. 
The Turks, feeling their strength, began to grow 
insolent. At length one of their number, the 
Lord Turbishaw, (for the purpose, as was 
said, of amusing the Turkish ladies,) sent a chal¬ 
lenge to any man of the Christian troops, who 
dared come out to fight him. Lots were now 
cast, to see who should accept this challenge j 
and the lot fell upon Smith. The time for the 
meeting approached, and the battlements of the 
town were lined with ladies to witness it. Lord 
Turbishaw, elegantly dressed in a magnificent 
suit of armor, wdiich blazed with gold, silver, 
and jewels, now rode out into the field. Three 
men attended him, one bearing his lance, and 
two others moving by the side of his horse. 
Smith rode out to meet him, attended only by a 
page, w’ho bore his lance. The trumpets now 
sounded, (as the signal for battle,) and the 
conflict commenced. It was soon ended ; for 
Smith, with his lance, thrust the Turk through 


28 


JOHN SMITH. 


the head, and he fell dead from his horse. Great 
was the shout of joy now raised by the Christian 
troops; and loud the lamentations among the 
Turkish ladies. The conqueror now cut off the 
head of Turbishaw, and bore it back in triumph 
among his comrades, leaving his dead body ly¬ 
ing upon the ground. This defeat was more 
than the Turks could well bear, and a particular 
friend of Turbishaw’s, named Grualgo, was in¬ 
flamed with rage. Burning to revenge the death 
of his friend, he sent now a special challenge to 
Smith, to meet him. The challenge was at once 
accepted, and the next day fixed for the meet¬ 
ing. It was agreed this time that the conqueror 
should have the horse and the armor of the de¬ 
feated. In the morning they met. At their first 
attack, their lances were shivered—their pistols 
were then discharged, and both were wounded, 
Smith slightly, the Turk severely, in the arm. 
Smith now had the advantage. The Turk, from 
the wound in his arm, being unable to manage 
his horse, was easily slain; his head was also 
taken from his body, and carried triumphant¬ 
ly to the Christian troops. His horse and his 
armor too, were now the trophies of the con¬ 
queror. Proud of his success, in a haughty 
spirit, Smith (by permission of his commander) 


JOHN SMITH. 


29 


now sent his challenge to the Turks. If the 
ladies, he said, still desired amusement, and 
would choose their champion, he would add his 
head to the number he had taken, or lose his 
own. A champion was soon found in the per¬ 
son of a ferocious Turk, named Bonamolgro— 
the challenge accepted, and terms agreed upon. 
As Bonamolgro was the challenged person, and 
had the choice of arms, having seen Smith’s 
skill in using the lance, he' avoided this, and se¬ 
lected for the weapons, pistols, battle-axes, and 
swords. The next day they met; their pistols 
were first fired, without injuring either party, 
and then they fought with battle-axes. The 
Turk was more skilled than Smith in the use of 
this; and dealing him a heavy blow, he un¬ 
horsed him, while his battle-axe fell from his 
hand. The ramparts now rung with the shouts 
of ladies, who supposed Smith was discomfited. 
But Smith was a fine horseman, and this saved 
him. In an instant, he rallied from the blow, 
remounted his horse, and by dexterous manage¬ 
ment of the animal, succeeded, not only in avoid¬ 
ing the blows aimed at him by the Turk, but at 
a favorable moment ran him through with his 
sword. Bonamolgro fell to the ground, and his 
head was also taken. The Turks were no dis- 
3 * 


30 


JOHN SMITH. 


heartened, and ere long the town was cap¬ 
tured. 

The triumph of the Christian forces was now 
great; but Smith’s triumph was greater, for he 
was the special hero of the occasion. He was 
conducted to the pavilion of his general by a 
military procession of six thousand men. Be¬ 
fore these were led three horses, and in front of 
all 'were the three Turks’ heads, borne on the 
points of three lances. Here he was received 
with great honor. The general embraced him 
warmly, presented him with a horse, richly ca¬ 
parisoned, a cimeter and belt, worth three hun¬ 
dred ducats ; and, best of all, in Smith’s estima¬ 
tion, made him the major of a regiment of men. 
Nor was the honor of his exploits yet ended; for 
afterwards, when the Prince of Transylvania 
heard of his valor, he presented to Smith his 
picture, set in gold ; gave him a pension of three 
hundred ducats a year, and granted him a coat 
of arms, bearing three Turks’ heads in a shield. 
The motto of the coat of arms was this: “ Vin - 
cere est vivere .” His fame was soon known at 
home, as well as abroad; for this patent of the 
Prince was afterwards admitted and recorded, in 
the College of Heralds, in England, by Sir Henry 
Segar, garter king at arms. Smith (it is said) 


JOHN SMITH. 


31 


always remembered this occasion w,th great ex¬ 
ultation, and to the last day of his life was proud 
of this motto. 

His passion for a soldier’s life naturally enough 
grew stronger as he advanced in distinction, and 
he was soon again in active service. In Wallachia, 
which was at this time a Turkish province, the 
inhabitants revolted against the reigning prince, 
and proclaimed a new one Pressed with a 
hard struggle, they applied to the Emperor of 
Germany to aid them, and he at once took ad¬ 
vantage of their position, and met their entreaty. 
Count Meldritch, Smith, and other officers, with 
an army of thirty thousand men, went to the 
assistance of the new prince. The deposed 
prince, resolute upon maintaining his place, had 
gathered together his forces, and now met them 
with an army of forty thousand Turks and Tar¬ 
tars. A desperate and bloody struggle followed: 
the army of the Turks was routed, and only fif¬ 
teen thousand made good their retreat. Twenty- 
five thousand Turks (it is said) lay dead or 
wounded upon the field, and the province was 
now .subject to the Emperor. 

With a strong heart, the deposed prince was 
still bent upon holding his place. He gathered 
his troops again together, and was ere long heard 


32 


JOHN SMITH* 


of in the province of Moldavia. Count Meldritch 
and Smith again met him. After several skilful 
and successful skirmishes against him, they seem 
to have been flushed with pride j and now pressing 
eagerly on in a narrow and mountainous pass, near 
the town of Rottenton, they were surprised by an 
ambuscade. Here an army of forty thousand 
men rushed suddenly upon them ; the Christian 
troops fought boldly and desperately, but to little 
or no purpose. They were overpowered by num¬ 
bers, and all were slain or wounded, except 
about thirteen hundred men, who, with Count 
Meldritch at their head, escaped by swimming a 
river. In this unfortunate struggle, Smith was 
badly wounded, and left (as his friends sup¬ 
posed) dead upon the field. In this, however, 
they were deceived. The Turks discovered him, 
bleeding among the heaps of the dead, and the rich¬ 
ness of his dress and armor, as it turned out, saved 
his life. Supposing him to be a man of rank 
and distinction, they were too cruel to despatch 
him, but saved him, that he might suffer a more 
lingering and degrading torment than death. 
His wounds were dressed, and after he had suffi¬ 
ciently recovered, he, with many others of the 
poor prisoners, were taken to a Turkish town, 
and there sold as slaves, in the market-place. 


JOHN SMITH. 


33 


It was Smith's lot to be purchased by the Ba¬ 
shaw Bogal ; and he now sent him as a present 
to his mistress, Tragabigzanda, in Constantino¬ 
ple, accompanying the present with this false¬ 
hood, that Smith was a Bohemian nobleman, 
whom he had made prisoner in war 


CHAPTER II. 


Smith escapes from his captivity—He wanders 
through Russia and Poland, and is kindly 
entertained—Cordial meeting with his old 
friends , in Transylvania—He journeys to 
France, Spain, and Morocco—Returns to 
Fngland—Happiness of his friends at meet¬ 
ing him—Meets with Bartholomew Gosnold, 
and determines to sail for the New World — 
Patent of King James for settling Virginia —• 
Their ships sail—Unkind treatment of Smith on 
the voyage—The Colonists reach Jamestown —■ 
Smith is refused his place as one of the 
Council. 

Smith fared fortunately in the hands of his 
Turkish mistress. Being able to speak Italian, 
and struck with the manly and noble bearing of 
the captive, she from time to time held con¬ 
versations with him, and learned the utter false¬ 
hood of the Bashaw’s message to her. Instead of 
a Bohemian nobleman, she discovered that the 
prisoner was an Englishman of good family, and 


JOHN SMITH. 


35 


promising prospects; that he was a soldier of 
fortune, Avho had fallen into his present position 
in the struggle near Rottenton, and had never 
seen the Bashaw, till they met in the market¬ 
place. Smith now told her the whole story of his 
wanderings, and the lady was captivated by the 
man, and his adventures. Finding her heart 
drawn toward him, and fearing that he might 
be ill-used, or again sold, she resolved to do 
what she could for his protection. She sent him 
therefore to her brother Timour, the Bashaw of 
Nalbraitz, who lived in the country of the Cam¬ 
brian Tartars, on the borders of the Sea of 
Azoph. To secure his good treatment, she sent a 
letter with him, requesting her brother to treat 
him kindly, and frankly telling him, that she felt 
a deep attachment for the prisoner. Her letter, 
however, instead of helping Smith, as she de¬ 
signed, only outraged her brother. He was 
greatly indignant at the thought, that his sister 
should love a Christian slave. In an hour after 
his arrival, he was stripped of all his clothing— 
his head and beard were shaved—an iron collar 
was fastened round his neck—and clothed in a 
suit of hair cloth, he was sent out to hard labor 
among other poor Christian slaves. 

Smith’s situation was now pitiable enough; 


36 


JOHN SMITH. 


but his bold spirit was unconquered. His com¬ 
panions in misery were sad and in despair; yet 
he, though well nigh driven to despair, had ever 
the hope of being again free, and watched every 
opportunity of making his escape. He thought 
first of running away, but he found that he was 
watched so closely, that he could not move with¬ 
out being seen. Day after day, therefore, he la¬ 
bored on, but with a heart of hope, that he 
should one day be rid of his bondage. How 
long he was in captivity here, I cannot say, but 
he at last made his escape in the following 
manner. 

He was employed one day in threshing corn, 
at a farm-house, in a field, about three miles 
from the place where his tyrannical master liv¬ 
ed. The master was in the habit, at times, of 
visiting the laborers at their work, and at such 
times, not unfrequently, treated them with great 
cruelty. On this occasion he visited the farm¬ 
house, and having a personal dislike to Smith, 
was not satisfied with abusing him, but beat 
him and kicked him violently. This was more 
than the proud spirit of Smith could endure. 
Watching his opportunity, therefore, when no 
one was present, he gave him a blow with his 
threshing flail, and laid him senseless at his feet. 


JOHN SMITH* 37 

No time was now to be lost. He at once dressed 
himself in the Bashaw’s clothes, hid his body un¬ 
der the straw, filled a bag with corn, closed the 
doors, mounted the Bashaw’s horse, and gallop¬ 
ed off into the wilderness. He was now free, but 
in the midst of a wild desert, ignorant of his way. 

In this desert he wandered for two or three 
days, not knowing whither he was going, and 
fortunately meeting no one who might have 
marked his iron collar, known him as a slave, 
and possibly recaptured him, or given notice, at 
least, of his flight. At length it was his good 
fortune to reach a cross-road, where a sign-post 
directed him, on the main road to Russia. Keep¬ 
ing this road, at the end of sixteen days, (dur¬ 
ing which time his bag supplied him with his 
only food,) he reached Ecopolis, upon the river 
Don, where there was a garrison of the Russians. 
The commander of the garrison, learning he was 
a Christian, treated him with great kindness; 
his iron collar was taken off, and letters were 
given to him, introducing him very kindly to the 
other governors in that region. He now travelled 
on through Russia and Poland, meeting every 
where with kind attention. It was in some part 
of this journey that he met with the lady Calla- 
mata, who took a deep interest in him, and of 
4 


38 


JOHN SMITH. 


whom Smith ever speaks with the utmost grati¬ 
tude. At length he reached Transylvania. Here 
he was welcomed with the greatest enthusiasm. 
His fame was well known, and his old comrades 
crowded around him, rejoicing once more to see 
a friend, whom they supposed lost to them for 
ever. At Leipsic he had a joyful meeting with 
his old commander, Count Meldritch ; and the 
Prince of Transylvania, (it is said,) hearing of 
his arrival, sent for him, and gave him a present 
of fifteen hundred ducats, to repair his losses. 
Smith seems to have been so touched with this 
kindness, that he was almost ready to listen to 
the entreaties of these friends, and make his 
home in their country. One thing alone pre¬ 
vented, and that was the longing desire, which 
naturally enough rested in his heart, to visit 
once more his native land. Who loves not the 
spot where he was born, and where he played in 
his boyhood 1 With a sad heart, therefore, he 
tore himself from these friends, and journeyed 
on. He passed through France, Germany, and 
Spain, observing, as was his custom, every thing 
attentively on his way. Now he was turned 
aside from going directly home, by his old passion 
for military life. Learning that a civil war had 
broken out, in the kingdom of Morocco, he im- 


JOHN SMITH. 


39 


mediately sailed for that country, with the in¬ 
tention of embarking in the struggle. Upon his 
arrival, however, not being pleased with either 
of the contending parties, he determined to take 
no part in it whatever, and ere long set sail for 
England. Strange adventures were still in his 
way: for in his homeward course, he bore his 
part in another naval battle. The ship in which 
he sailed was attacked by two Spanish vessels 
of war, and, after a desperate and bloody fight, 
they were driven off. He soon now made his 
landing in England, having (it is reported) in 
his possession one thousand ducats, which, in ad¬ 
dition to some property which he held in Eng¬ 
land, enabled him, for the time, to feel quite in¬ 
dependent. 

Great was the joy between Smith and his 
friends now, in his native land. While he glad¬ 
ly told the story of his travels, they forgot the 
sorrows of his exile in the delight of hearing 
him. Their joy, however, was soon again over¬ 
cast, for his untired spirit began to pant for 
other adventures, and they knew that it was idle 
to attempt to restrain him. The circumstances 
which now roused his spirit, are circumstances 
in which we, as Americans, are nearly in¬ 
terested 


40 


JOHN SMITH. 


At this time, well nigh all Europe was filled 
with a desire for maritime discoveries, and no¬ 
where was this desire more ardent than in Eng¬ 
land. Several voyagers had now crossed the 
western waters, and seen portions of that New 
World which had been discovered by Columbus. 
Returning home, they had marvellous stories to 
tell of its richness and beauty. More than this 
had been done. Attempts had been made to 
colonize a part of the new continent. The bold 
genius of that noble Englishman, Sir Walter 
Raleigh, had (even during the reign of the pre¬ 
ceding sovereign, Queen Elizabeth) attempted 
to plant a group of adventurers upon Roanoke 
Island, off the coast of Carolina; and though 
this effort, with others, had failed, the desire for 
the same sort of adventure was still strongly felt 
in England; and as new tidings came from 
time to time of the beauty of the new world, this 
desire only increased. It happened about the 
time of Smith’s return home, that Bartholomew 
Gosnold (who, in 1602, had made a voyage to 
New England) was talking largely of the pros¬ 
pects of the new world, and was himself desir¬ 
ous and ready to make another adventure there, 
for the purpose of planting a colony and sub¬ 
duing the wilderness. Meeting with Smith, he 


JOHN SMITH. 


41 


found one ready to listen to his story and plans; 
a strong friendship was soon formed between 
them, and they determined to link their hopes 
together in this new undertaking. They now 
set resolutely to work, to secure sufficient patron¬ 
age to carry out their design. Other voyagers 
returning home, confirmed from time to time the 
statements of Gosnold, and animated them the 
more in their efforts. Ere long, they found sev¬ 
eral noblemen and gentlemen, of like feeling 
with themselves, (among whom we should espe¬ 
cially remember Edward Maria Wingfield, a 
merchant, Robert Hunt, a clergyman, and Rich¬ 
ard Hackluyt,) and now they asked of King 
James a royal patent, for making new dis¬ 
coveries, and planting a colony in Virginia. 

The king met these proposals, and on the 10th 
of April, 1606, issued his letters patent to Sir 
Thomas Gates, Sir George Somers, Richard 
Hackluyt and others. By these letters, they 
were allowed to possess all the territories in 
North America, lying between the thirty-fourth 
and forty-fifth degrees of north latitude, and all 
islands within the same latitudes, within one hun¬ 
dred miles of the shore. These adventurers, I 
believe, had asked the privilege of establishing 
two colonies. At all events, they were divided 
4* 


42 


JOHN SJVIT1I. 


into two companies—one known as the London 
or South Virginia Company—the other, as the 
Plymouth Company. The two companies were 
to make their settlements within the territory 
granted—one in the southern, the other in the 
northern part of it, and their colonies were to be 
kept one hundred miles apart These colonies 
were to be governed by two councils, as they 
were called, both selected by the king—one coun¬ 
cil to reside in England, while the other resided 
in the colon}, and all laws made by the Colo¬ 
nial Council were to be subject to repeal or al¬ 
teration by the king or Supreme Council at home. 
These terms were the best the petitioners could 
obtain, and the London Company resolved at 
once to act under them. 

Some little delay was experienced in making 
all ready, so that the 19th of December arrived, 
before their ships were ready to sail from Eng¬ 
land. On that day three ships, one of or%hun¬ 
dred, another of forty, and another of twenty 
tons, under the command of Captain Christopher 
Newport, fell down the Thames, bound on a 
voyage for Virginia. Of course, they were well 
stocked with men and provisions for a colony. 
Among the leading men on board, were Barthol 
omew Gosnold, Captain Smith, Edward Wing- 


JOHN SMITH 


43 


field the merchant, and Robert Hunt the clergy¬ 
man. They had with them, among other things, 
a sealed box, containing “ orders for government 
in Virginia,” which box was not to be opened 
until their arrival there. 

The ships were now detained for more than 
six weeks off the coast of England, by head 
winds; and murmurings and complaints arose 
among the adventurers. These, however, w r ere 
allayed, in some degree, by the affection and per¬ 
severance of the good clergyman, Mr. Hunt. 
Though a sick man, he forgot his own troubles 
to make them happy. There were some on 
board who hated (it seems) him, and his profes¬ 
sion, yet “ all this” (we are told) “ could never 
force from him so much as a seeming desire to 
leave the business, but he preferred the service 
of God in so good a voyage, before any affection 
to contest with his Godless foes, whose disastrous 
designs (could they have prevailed) had even 
then overthrown the business, so many discon* 
tents did then arise, had he not with the water 
of patience, and his Godly exhortations, (but 
chiefly by his true devoted examples,) quenched 
those flames of envy and dissension.”* At 


Smith’s Virginia—Vol. I., page 150. 


44 


JOHN SMITH. 


length, with a fair wind, they shaped their 
course for the new world, by the old route of the 
Canaries and West India Islands. They had 
scarcely reached the Canaries, when their mur- 
murings became louder than ever, and it seems 
now that poor Smith was unconsciously the prin¬ 
cipal cause of them. His bold and manly bear- 
ing, together with his conversation, had excited 
the suspicion and jealousy of some of his com¬ 
panions. They declared that he had the desire 
and intention of murdering the council, and 
making himself king of Virginia, and that he 
had conspirators among the crew for that pur¬ 
pose. Smith was too proud to make any expla¬ 
nation, when he felt perfectly innocent, and the 
consequence was, that he was now seized and 
confined as a prisoner for the rest of the voyage. 
They were also, it is said, outraged with Mr. 
Hunt as his friend, and I presume his profession 
and prudence alone saved him from the same 
fate. They now steered from the Canaries, to 
the West Indies. Among these islands they 
spent three weeks, recruiting for their farther 
voyage, and seem to have been much pleased 
with the appearance of this new and strange 
region. Thence they moved off for Virginia. 
Visited with unsteady weather, for some time 


JOHN SMllH. 


45 


they made but little progress—and having atone 
time lost their reckoning for three days, many 
of them became dissatisfied again, and urged 
strongly a return to England. Fortunately, a 
fine breeze relieved them in this time of discon¬ 
tent, and on the 26th day of April, 1607, they 
saw land, and entered Chesapeake Bay. The 
land first seen was on the north side of the en¬ 
trance to the bay. To this they gave the name 
of Cape Henry, and to the point on the south side 
of the entrance, the name of Cape Charles, both 
in honor of the sons of King James. They sailed 
into the first broad river which opened before 
them, naming it after their king, James River. 
For seventeen days now, they busied themselves 
in finding a convenient spot for their settlement, 
and during this period landed several times, and 
met the savages of the country. The first land¬ 
ing was at Cape Henry, where thirty of the ad¬ 
venturers went ashore. Here they found on 
the flats abundance of oysters “ laying as thick 
as stones,” and the land was covered with wild 
flowers and fine strawberries. They were at¬ 
tacked by five savages, and two of their number 
badly wounded, before they drove them off with 
their muskets. Again they landed at Point 
Comfort, on the north side of the mouth of James 


46 


JOHN SMITH. 


River, (a place so named by themselves because 
they found good anchorage there, which gave 
them great comfort.) They met now some In¬ 
dians, who at first were frightened, but upon one 
of the white men’s laying his hand upon his 
neart, the savages felt that their intentions were 
peaceable, and came directly to them, inviting 
them to visit their town Kecoughtan, the place 
where Hampton is now built. The invitation 
was accepted, and when they reached the town, 
both parties were well pleased. The Indians 
feasted the strangers on cakes of Indian corn, 
and entertained them with tobacco and a dance, 
while the whites, in their turn, presented to them 
beads and other trinkets. Then the chief of the 
Rappahannas, hearing of them, sent a messenger 
to invite them to come and see him, and to guide 
them to his home. This invitation was also ac¬ 
cepted, and they were received in great state by 
the chief and his people. They stood upon the 
banks of the river to meet them as they landed. 
As soon as they were ashore, the chief came be¬ 
fore them at the head of his train, “ playing on 
a flute made of a reed, with a crown of deer’s 
hair colored red, in fashion of a rose, fastened 
about his knot of hair, and a great plate of cop¬ 
per on the other side of his head, with two long 


JOHN SMITH. 


47 


feathers in fashion of a pair of horns, placed in 
the midst of his crown. His body was painted 
all with crimson, with a chain of beads about 
his neck; his face painted blue besprinkled with 
silver ore; his ears all behung with bracelets of 
pearl, and in either ear a bird’s claw through it, 
beset with fine copper or gold.” He now had 
his mat spread upon the ground, and while his 
people all stood around him, sat down and smok¬ 
ed his pipe of tobacco. This being over, he 
made signs to the whites to follow him to his 
town. He went first, leading the way, the 
Indians and whites all following, and after pass¬ 
ing through beautiful woods and rich fields of 
corn, they at length ascended a steep hill, and were 
at the palace of the chief of the Rappahannas. 
Here they were treated with great hospitality. 
Ascending the river, they afterwards saw a body 
of Indians, standing on the shore all armed, and 
their chief, Apamatica—holding in one hand his 
bow and arrow, and in the other his pipe of to¬ 
bacco—boldly demanded what they had come 
for. They made signs of peace, and were again 
kindly entertained by him. Still passing on, at 
the distance of thirty-two miles from the mouth 
of the river, they found the shore on the north 
side bold, and covered with heavy timber ; and 


48 


JOHN SMITH. 


the water near by being six fathoms deep, they 
were enabled to moor their ships to the trees on 
the land. The appearance of this spot pleased 
them more than any they had seen; and upon 
being visited by the chief of the Pashipays, who 
offered them as much land as they needed for 
their purpose, and gave them a deer for their en¬ 
tertainment, they determined here to make their 
settlement. It was now the 13th of May—they 
went ashore, pitched their tents, and gave to the 
spot the name of Jamestown. When the sealed 
, box containing their orders was opened, it was 
found that Bartholomew Gosnold, John Smith, 
Edward M. Wingfield, Christopher Newport, 
John Ratcliff, John Martin, and George Kendall, 
were named as the council for the colony. Their 
instructions were to choose a president from 
among their number, for one year, and he, with 
the help of the other counsellors, was to manage 
the affairs of the colony. Matters of importance 
were to be “ examined by a jury, but determined 
by the major part of the council, in which the 
president had two voices.” Edward M. Wing¬ 
field was at once chosen president, and with all 
the others, except John Smith, sworn into office. 
They were still jealous and suspicious of this 
man, (from no good cause whatever, as we shall 


JOHN SMITH. 


49 


see,) and thus refused him the place to which 
he had been appointed. In fact, they even 
went so far as to set forth a declaration to the 
whole colony, shewing why he was not admitted 
to his office. 


50 


CHAPTER III. 

Noble conduct of Smith—Beginning of James- 
town — Wingfield's imprudence in not prepar¬ 
ing a fort, and having the men drilled to mil¬ 
itary exercises—Smith visits the chief Powha¬ 
tan—Jlttack upon Jamestown by the savages — 
Smith demands a trial , and is acquitted — New¬ 
port sails for England—Sufferings of the col¬ 
ony—Selfishness of Wingfield—He tries to 
escape from the colony , is prevented , and de¬ 
posed from the Presidency—Ratcliff is made 
President—Being a weak man , the care of the 
colony falls upon Smith—His excursion to 
Kecoughtan , to obtain supplies—His adven¬ 
tures up the Chickahomony river—Is made 
a prisoner by the Indians—His treatment by 
the savages—Presents his compass to Opecan- 
chanough , and saves his life thereby—Writes to 
Jamestown—Is led about among various tribes , 
and at last brought to Werowcomoco , the resi¬ 
dence of Powhatan. 

The injustice done to Smith formed good 
ground for a quarrel, (and he had some friends 
among the colonists,) but his own magnanimity 


JOHN SMITH. 


51 


prevented it. They were all in a wilderness, 
and much was to be done ere they could call 
themselves at home. He forgot his own trouble, 
therefore, in thinking of the good of the colony. 
All hands now set resolutely to work. Some 
went to clearing the forests, some to digging and 
preparing garden-spots, some to making nets, 
fixing up their fishing-tackle, &c. The Council 
planned a fort, but from some cause, President 
Wingfield did not desire a regular fortification, 
and to please him, the fort was made to consist 
only of the boughs of trees, loosely laid together 
in the shape of a half moon. Some of the Coun¬ 
cil, too, were in favor of having the men regular¬ 
ly drilled to military exercises, that they might 
be ready at any time to meet an attack from the 
savages, which attack they thought not unlikely 
to take place ; but this too was thought idle by 
President Wingfield, and consequently was neg¬ 
lected. 

Desirous of learning something of the coun¬ 
try, Newport and Smith were despatched with 
twenty men, to discover the head of the river. 
They passed, as they went up, many small 
habitations, and on the sixth day reached the 
falls of the river, where they erected a cross, 
and took possession of the country in the name 


52 


JOHN SMITH. 


of King James. Near by, they visited the famous 
Indian town, Powhatan. This consisted only of 
twelve houses, pleasantly situated upon a sloping 
hill, and was at the time the residence of the cele¬ 
brated chief after whom it was named. Powdiatan 
(whose name rang through that region as the 
greatest of Indian chiefs) received them with 
great kindness, and was greatly delighted w r ith 
a hatchet, which was presented to him by Cap¬ 
tain Newport. Some of his men seem to have 
been suspicious of the English, and murmured 
at their coming among them; but Powhatan re¬ 
buked them, saying, “ Why should we be of¬ 
fended ? they hurt us not, nor take any thing 
by force: they want only a little ground, which 
we can easily spare.” The English now left 
him and returned to Jamestown. 

Great was their surprise, on reaching home, 
to find that the colony had been attacked by the 
savages—seventeen of their companions wound¬ 
ed, and one boy killed. It was fortunate too 
that they heard nothing worse than this: for the 
whole company came near being massacred. 
The colonists had not looked for the attack, and 
were all unarmed, and the only thing that saved 
them was, that “ a cross-barre shot from the ships 
struck down a bough of ?i tree in the midst of 


JOHN SMITH. 


53 


the Indians, and caused them to retire.” The 
president now saw his folly—the fort was at 
once palisadoed—five pieces of artillery were 
mounted upon it ; and it was ordered that, after 
this, the men should be armed and drilled 
to their exercises. A regular guard was estab¬ 
lished at night, also in the settlement, and the 
men were cautioned about straggling into the 
forests. 

Six weeks had passed away, and the ships 
were well nigh laden for a return to Eng¬ 
land. The accusers of Smith now came for¬ 
ward, and, in pretended mercy, offered to send 
his case home, to be judged by the Council in 
England. They were unwilling to try him them¬ 
selves, (they said,) because they did not wish to 
blacken his reputation, and perhaps take away 
his life. Conscious of his innocence, Smith 
spurned their proposal. He knew that his whole 
conduct had been uniformly for the good of the 
colony, and he now demanded that it should be 
rigidly looked to—that he should be tried upon 
the spot. The witnesses were brought for¬ 
ward. Falsehood after falsehood was soon de¬ 
tected among them. Some of them were convicted 
of perjury, and the whole company at once saw 
his innocence. His accusers were now con- 
5 * 


54 


TOHN SMITH. 


founded. It was seen that Wingfield’s jealousy 
of Smith had urged false witnesses against him, 
and it was decided that the president should pay 
him two hundred pounds for the injury he had 
done him. His property was at once seized, and 
the two hundred pounds raised and paid over to 
Smith, who immediately placed it in the public 
treasury, for the good of the colony. Thus, 
after a patient imprisonment of thirteen weeks, 
he triumphed over his enemies; and his generous 
and noble conduct had made him the most 
popular man in the colony. He was now ad¬ 
mitted to his place in the council, and by his in¬ 
fluence and that of the good preacher, Mr. Hunt, 
other little difficulties, which had arisen among 
the colonists, were soon settled. The next Sun¬ 
day they all went in harmony to the cohimunion: 
the neighboring Indians soon after came in, de¬ 
siring terms of peace, and on the 22d of June, 
Captain Newport was enabled to sail home¬ 
ward, bearing good news along with him. He 
left behind him, at Jamestown, one hundred and 
four souls, and promised to be back among them 
in twenty weeks, with fresh supplies. 

Thus left, the colonists ere long began to suf¬ 
fer for the want of provisions; indeed, the want 
(it is said) was felt at times before, and had been 


JOHN SMITH. 


55 


relieved at such times, by such supplies from the 
ships’ stores as the sailors could furnish. Some, 
from this circumstance, have supposed that the 
company at home was at fault, in not fitting out 
the expedition better, and supplying it with ampler 
provisions; but this censure would hardly seem to 
be just. The truth is, the colonists, instead of a 
voyage of two months, (as was calculated,) had 
made one cf five, and consumed during this time 
a large part of their stores; and then they had ar¬ 
rived in Virginia too late for the spring plant¬ 
ing, and thus failed in another expectation. 
This seems to have caused the difficulty. Be 
this as it may, the want occurred, and they were 
now reduced to a regular daily allowance of a 
half pint of barley, and a half pint of wheat. 
To make their fare worse, the grain, from 
having been so long in the ship’s hold, was 
filled with insects. Yet this diet they gladly 
received, adding to it, from time to time, such 
fish as they could take from the river. They 
still kept on with their labors, however, exposed 
as they were to the scorching rays of the sun by 
day, and lying upon the ground, with a poor 
shelter over them, at night. As might have 
been expected, starvation, exposure, and anxiety, 
brought on disease before the end of the fall 


56 


JOHN SMITH. 


season. By the end of September, fifty of their 
number had died, among whom was Bartholo¬ 
mew Gosnold. The rest were now divided into 
three watches, (for they still kept up the pre¬ 
caution of a watch,) and of these not more than 
five in each watch were fit for duty at one 
time. During this period of sad distress, the presi¬ 
dent (it is said) thought only of himself. He 
was well through the whole of it; and is charged 
with having seized and secreted provisions for 
his own use. His after conduct seems to con¬ 
firm the charge—at least it shews that he had 
but little sympathy with the sufferers. He, 
with Kendall, was soon detected in a plan which 
they had formed for seizing the pinnace, which 
belonged to the colony—deserting the settle¬ 
ment, and escaping to the West Indies. The 
settlers were now enraged, and at once took 
from him the presidency, and banished Kendall 
from the council. John Ratcliff was chosen 
president in his place, and he, with Martin and 
Smith, were now the only members of the coun¬ 
cil left. 

Ratcliff and Martin were men of little courage 
or resolution, and thus the management of the 
colony fell almost altogether upon Smith; nor 
could it have fallen upon a better or abler man. 


JOHN SMITH. 


57 


The first thing to be done was to obtain supplies, 
and these they soon had without any difficulty. 
Fortunately, their Indian neighbors proved friend¬ 
ly, and came in, bringing such quantities of food 
as they could spare. Their hearts were now 
cheered; and Smith, knowing that it was neces¬ 
sary to make preparations for the approaching 
winter as rapidly as possible, at once set the 
men to work, resolutely leading the way himself. 
His words and his example encouraged them 
They commenced cutting timber for building 
houses, and mowing and binding thatch for cov¬ 
ering them ; so that in a little time, Jamestown 
was a comfortable village, in which every man 
had a shelter and home, except Smith himself. 
The stock of provisions which the Indians had 
brought in being now nearly exhausted, it was 
necessary to look out for more. He chose, there¬ 
fore, five or six of the best men as his compan¬ 
ions, and, well armed, they went down the river 
in the shallop to Kecoughtan, the place where 
Hampton now stands. Here they found but lit¬ 
tle good feeling toward them. The Indians, 
knowing their necessity, and the starving state 
of the colony, treated them with great contempt. 
When they offered to trade with them, the sava¬ 
ges would give them only an ear of corn for a 


58 


JOHN SMITH. 


sword, a musket, or one of their garments Pro¬ 
voked by such conduct, and finding that they 
were not likely to obtain anything by kind and 
gentle treatment, Smith now resolved upon a 
bold experiment. He ordered the boat to be 
drawn ashore, and his men to fire their muskets. 
The frightened Indians now fled, to the woods for 
shelter: and the party immediately went to their 
houses, searching for corn. Of this they found 
an abundance: but Smith would not allow them 
yet to touch it. Fearing the treachery of the In¬ 
dians, he supposed they would soon appear again 
and make a general attack upon him. He there¬ 
fore made ready for them: nor was he disap¬ 
pointed. In a little time some sixty or seventy 
of them, painted of different colors, were seen 
advancing in the form of a hollow square, bring¬ 
ing their idol Okee in the midst of them. This 
idol was nothing more than a figure made of 
skins, stuffed with moss, and ornamented with 
chains of copper. The savages were armed 
with clubs, bows and arrows, and approached in 
great confidence, singing and dancing. Smith 
and his men again discharged their muskets, 
bringing many of them to the ground, and 
with them their idol Okee. The battle was at 
once over; the rest now fled to the woods, and 


JOHN SMITH. 


59 


soon after sent some of their number to beg for 
peace, and to recover their idol. Smith, now tri¬ 
umphant, was in a condition to make his own 
terms. He agreed that if six of them, unarmed, 
would come and load his boat with corn, he 
would return their idol, be their friend, and give 
them presents of beads, hatchets, and copper. 
The terms were faithfully performed on both 
sides; indeed, the Indians were so much pleased, 
that they brought, besides, venison, turkeys, and 
other game, and kept up their singing and danc¬ 
ing until the white men left for Jamestown. 

Finding himself so successful in this enterprise, 
Smith now, from time to time, as provisions were 
needed, continued his excursions—sometimes on 
foot, sometimes in the boat. He discovered most 
of the branches of the James river, and explored 
the country extensively. In one of his excur¬ 
sions, he was particularly struck with the fertile 
banks of the Chickahomony river, arid marked 
it as a region where, in time of want, he might 
probably obtain plentiful supplies from the In¬ 
dians. But his efforts at aiding the colony were 
continually thwarted by bad management during 
his absence. Ratcliff and Martin were weak 
men, and allowed the stores to be wasted, which 
he with so much labor procured. They suffered 


60 


JOHN SMITH. 


too, the natives to come into the settlement from 
time to time, trading, and the whites in their bar 
gains outbidding one another at times, soon 
taught the savages to set a high value upon all 
their articles, and to complain if they did not 
always receive the highest prices. Thus, a dis¬ 
contented spirit soon prevailed among them. 
Troubles, too, were continually fostered by bad 
men in the colony. Wingfield and Kendall, dis¬ 
satisfied at their treatment, made loud complaints, 
and at one time, during Smith’s absence, plotted 
to steal the shallop, (which had been made 
ready for a trading voyage,) and make their 
escape to England. Smith returned in time, how¬ 
ever, to prevent this, though it was done with 
difficulty. It was necessary to do it forcibly, and 
Kendall was killed. Soon after this, Ratcliff, 
with a man named Archer, equally dissatisfied, 
attempted the same thing, but these also were 
prevented from carrying out their plans. Yo ; 
perceive, therefore, what struggles Captain Smith 
had to encounter He had enemies around him 
in the savages, and enemies at home in the colo¬ 
ny, while almost from day to day he had to pro¬ 
vide for the wants of his well nigh starving 
countrymen. Yet he was resolved to keep pos¬ 
session of the country, and difficulties only roused 


JOHN SMITH. 


61 


Him the more, to carry out this strong resolution 
Fortunately, as winter approached, a plentiful 
supply of wild fowl were taken, and making 
friends of the Indians from time to time, they 
brought him quantities of corn, beans, and pump¬ 
kins. He was in fact now the father of the 
colony: the people turned to him in all theii 
troubles, and by looking closely to their wants, 
he managed to secure most of them as warm 
friends to himself. 

It is well nigh impossible to please all men : 
and Smith soon found that some few were com¬ 
plaining of him, that he had not done all that he 
could for their relief. He had, as I have told 
you, discovered the Chickahomony river—and 
the complaint now was, that wanting resolution, 
he had not explored it to its source, made friends 
of the Indians there, and opened the way for a 
continued supply from them. Resolved that such 
a complaint, however groundless, should no lon¬ 
ger exist, he now fitted up the boat, and taking 
some of the men, started for that river. He went 
so high up the stream this time, that he was forced 
to cut the trees that had fallen into the river, that 
the boat might pass through. At length, having 
moved up as high as the boat would float, she 
was dragged ashore to a safe place, and the men 
6 


62 


JOHN SMITH. 


were ordered to remain there with her, until he 
should come hack. Taking now two of his 
men, with two Indians as guides, he moved up in 
an Indian canoe, to the meadows at the head of 
the river. Here he left his two men with the 
canoe, and with the guides passed on for many 
miles over the meadows. Smith’s men disobey¬ 
ed his orders, and consequently brought trouble 
upon the whole party. Instead of remaining 
with the boat, they went straggling into the 
woods, and ere long were discovered by a party 
of three hundred Indians. These Indians were 
commanded by Opechancanough, the brother of 
Powhatan. The crew r all escaped with great 
difficulty, except one man, who was made pris¬ 
oner. The Indians now forced him to tell all 
that he knew, and particularly where Captain 
Smith was, and then put him to death. Follow¬ 
ing the stream in search of him, they came, be¬ 
fore a great while, to the two men left with the 
canoe. These poor fellows were sleeping by a 
fire which they had kindled, and were instantly 
murdered. Ere long they discovered Smith in 
the meadows, and immediately let fly their ar¬ 
rows at him. One of these struck him in the 
leg, and w r ounded him badly. His situation was 
perilous enough, but he did not for a moment 


JOHN SMITH. 


63 


lose his presence of mind. He instantly seized 
one of his Indian guides, and tied him with his 
garter to his left arm. This man he used as his 
shield; and having his gun with him, he kept up 
a fire upon them as fast as he could. Three of 
them fell dead, and several were wounded. For¬ 
tunately, his gun carried farther than their bows, 
and they kept at some distance. During all this 
time, he was retreating as rapidly as he could to¬ 
ward the canoe ; but watching his enemies, and 
not marking his footsteps, he with his guide sunk 
to the middle in a hole in the meadow, and 
stuck fast in the mud. His courage had so 
amazed the Indians, that they dared not approach 
him, helpless as he was, and incapable now of 
doing them any injury. At last, almost dead 
with cold, he threw away his arms, and begged 
that he might be taken. They now came up, 
dragged him out, and led him to the fire. Here 
he saw the dead bodies of his two countrymen, 
and knew at once what would probably be his 
fate. Still he was calm. The Indians chafed 
his cold limbs, and he now called for their chief 
Opechancanough. Knowing that to beg for his 
life was only to lose it, when the chief came be¬ 
fore him he drew from his pocket his ivory 
compass and dial, which he carried to guide him 


64 


JOHN SMITH. 


in his wanderings, and presented it to him. The 
chief and his people were greatly pleased. The 
motions of the needle, which they could see hut 
not touch, delighted and astonished them. Smith 
had been in the country long enough to know 
something of their language, and marking their 
feelings, he now began to explain to them the 
use of the compass—the discoveries that had been 
made by means of it—to talk “ of the earth, the 
skies, sun, moon, and stars, and kow the sun did 
chase the night round about the world continually, 
the greatness of the land and sea, the diversity of 
nations, variety of complexions,”* &c., while the 
savages stood amazed with admiration. 

In a little time, however, their astonishment 
was over, and they were ready to execute him. 
They now tied him to a tree, and prepared with 
their bows and arrows to despatch him. Just at 
this time, the chief held up the ivory compass, 
the savages threw down their arms, and forming 
themselves into a military procession, led the 
poor captive in triumph toward their village 
Orapaxe. They were very particular in arrang¬ 
ing the order of this triumphal march. They 
ranged themselves in single file, their chief or 
king being in the midst, and before him were 
* Smith’s Virginia—Vol. I., page 158. 


JOHN SMITH. 


65 


borne the swords and muskets taken from Smith 
and his companions. Next to the chief came 
Smith, held by three of the stoutest of their 
number, a.id on each side a file of six archers. 
When they arrived at the village, the old men, 
women, and children came out to meet them, 
and were greatly amazed and delighted when 
they saw the prisoner. Some strange manoeu¬ 
vres were now performed by the warriors, and 
at length they formed themselves into a circle 
around Smith and their chief, and commenced 
dancing and singing. Their looks and sounds 
were strange enough to Smith. They were all 
painted, dressed up in furs and feathers, and be¬ 
sides yelling, made a great noise by brandishing 
their rattles, which were made of the tails of rat¬ 
tlesnakes. This circular dance was performed 
three times, and Smith was then conducted to a 
long hut, and forty men placed there to guard 
him. Here he was feasted so bountifully with 
Indian bread and venison, that he began to think 
they were fattening him only to kill and devour him. 

Kindness will win the heart of almost any 
man, and Smith now perceived the effect of it 
upon the heart of a savage. One of the Indians, 
to whom it seems he had formerly given some 
green beads, and other trifling trinkets, now came, 
6 * 


66 


JOHN SMITH. 


presenting to him a garment of furs, to protect 
him from the cold. The name of this man was 
Maocassater , and it deserves to be remembered. 

Very different from this was the conduct of 
another Indian, an old man, who tried to kill 
him, because his son was dying. Whether it was 
that he supposed that Smith, by some enchant¬ 
ment, had made his boy sick, or whether the son 
had been wounded in battle, we are not told. 
At all events, the old man’s revenge was curbed, 
and the prisoner was conducted by his guard to 
the dying youth. He now told them that he had 
a medicine, at Jamestown, that would cure him, 
if they would allow him to go and bring it, but 
this they refused to do. They were unwilling 
to part with him, for they were all making 
ready for an attack upon Jamestown, and cal¬ 
culated upon great assistance from him. They 
needed him as a guide, and now they made 
large offers to secure his services. They promised 
him his life, liberty, and as much land as he 
should wish for, if he would only aid them. Smith 
told them of the great difficulty of the under¬ 
taking, talked to them of the guns, mines, and 
other defences of the place. All this terrified 
them, but did not dissuade them from their in¬ 
tention. He was now permitted to write a note 


JOHN SMITH. 


67 


to Jamestown, asking for the medicine, and 
some other things that he desired, and some of 
the Indians were to deliver it. Taking advantage 
of this, he tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and 
wrote the note, asking for what he needed, 
telling his countrymen of his situation, of the 
designs of the savages, and the best way of 
frightening the messengers, when they should 
arrive there. Through frost and snow the mes¬ 
sengers made their way, and ere long came near 
Jamestown. The "whites, seeing them, sallied 
out to meet them, and the frightened Indians, 
dropping their note, ran away. At night, tak¬ 
ing courage, they returned, and discovered all 
the articles which Smith had sent for, on the 
very spot where he told them they would find 
■them. Gathering them up, they now returned 
homeward, telling their countrymen of the mar¬ 
vellous sights that they had seen; and wonder¬ 
ing, most of all, at the power of the speaking 
leaf \ which had secured for Smith the articles 
sent for. 

What they had seen, induced the savages to 
give up the thought of an attack upon J ames- 
town, and looking upon Smith as a wonderful 
man, they now led him about the country, mak¬ 
ing a show of him. They passed with him 


68 


JOHN SMITH. 


through several tribes of Indians, on the Rap- 
pahannoc and Potowmac rivers, and at length 
brought him to Pamunkee, the home of Ope- 
chancanough. Halting here, they performed a 
strange ceremony, the design of which (as they 
said) was to find out whether Smith’s feelings 
toward them were those of a friend or enemy. 
The ceremony was as follows: 

“ Early in the morning a great fire was made 
in a long house, and a mat spread, on the one 
side as on the other; on the one they caused 
him to sit, and all the guard went out of the 
house, and presently came skipping in a great 
grim fellow, all painted over with coal, mingled 
with oil; and many snakes, and weasels’ skins, 
stuffed with moss, and all their tails tied together, 
so as they met on the crown of his head in a 
tassel; and round about the tassel was a coronet 
of feathers, the skins hanging round about his 
head, back, and shoulders, and in a manner 
covered his face; with a hellish voice, and a 
rattle in his hand. With most strange gestures 
and passions, he began his invocation, and en¬ 
vironed the fire with a circle of meal: which 
done, three men, like devils, came lushing in, 
with the like antic tricks, painted half black, 
half red ; but all their eyes were painted white 


JOHN SMITH. 


69 


and some red strokes, like mustachios, along 
their cheeks: round about him, these fiends 
danced a pretty while, and then came in three 
more as ugly as the rest, with red eyes and white 
strokes over their black faces; at last they all 
sat down right against him; three of them on 
the one hand of the chief priest, and three on 
the other. Then all, with their rattles, began 
a song; which ended, the chief priest laid down 
five wheat corns: then straining his arms and 
hands with such violence that he sweat, and his 
veins swelled, he began a short oration: at the 
conclusion, they all gave a short groan, and 
then laid down three grains more. After that 
began their song again, and then another ora¬ 
tion, ever laying down so many corns as before, 
till they had twice encircled the fire; that done, 
they took a bunch of little sticks, prepared for 
that purpose, continuing still their devotion, and 
at the end of every song and oration, -they laid 
down a stick between the divisions of corn. Till 
night, neither he nor they did eat or drink, and 
then they feasted merrily, with the best pro¬ 
visions they could make. Three days they used 
this ceremony: the meaning whereof, they told 
him, was to know if he intended them well or 
no. The circle of meal signified the country, 


70 


JOHN SMITH. 


the circle of corn the hounds of the sea, and the 
sticks his country. They imagined the world to 
be flat and round, like a trencher, and they in 
the midst.”* Smith, of course, did not under¬ 
stand the meaning of all this, nor did he know, 
at the end of it, whether they discovered him to 
be a friend or foe. 

This ceremony being over, they brought him 
a bag of gunpowder, telling him that they 
should mingle it with their corn, and plant it the 
next season. He was now invited by Opitcha - 
pan (one of the brothers of Powhatan) to come 
and visit him. He went to his home, and was 
welcomed “ with platters of bread, fowl, and 
wild beastsbut, as usual, not one of the savages 
would eat with him. After this they brought 
him to Werowocomoco, the residence of their 
great Emperor Powhatan 


Smith’s Virginia, vol. i. page 161 . 


CHAPTER IV. 


Smith is received by Powhatan in great state — 
The savages propose to kill him—His life is 
saved by the Princess Pocahontas—He is re¬ 
leased and returns to Jamestown—Troubles at 
Jamestown—He soon restores order—Kindness 
of Pocahontas—Arrival of Captain Newport , 
in 1607 — His visit to Powhatan—Strange 
trafficking—Fire at Jamestown—Sufferings 
in the colony—Newport sails homeward — 
Smith rebuilds the town—Arrival of Captain 
Nelson—Disturbance between Smith and Pow¬ 
hatan—Bold conduct of Smith—Peace is re¬ 
stored—Nelson sails for England. 

Werowocomoco, the home of Powhatan, is 
stated to have been “ on the north side of York 
River, in Gloucester county, about twenty-five 
miles below the fork of the river.” When 
Smith arrived in this village, more than two 
hundred savages came around him, gazing at 
him as “ though he had been a monster.” He 
was not yet brought into the presence of their 


72 


JOHN SMITH. 


chief, until due preparations had been made 
for receiving him. All being ready, he at 
length came before Powhatan. In a long hut, 
in the midst of which there w r as a large fire, he 
found him seated upon a sort of throne, while 
his two young daughters sat on either side of 
him. He was dressed in a heavy robe of rac¬ 
coon skins. On each side of the hut there were 
two rows of men, and behind them as many 
women, with their heads and shoulders painted 
red. Some had their heads decked off with the 
white down of birds, and some had strings of 
white beads around their necks. When Smith 
came in, they all gave a great shout. The 
queen of Apamatox brought him water to wash 
his hands—while another damsel brought him a 
bunch of feathers, to serve as a towel to dry 
them. After this, they feasted him with their 
best provisions, and then they consulted among 
themselves, as to what should be done with him 
Smith soon understood his fate, when, at the 
end of this consultation, two large stones were 
brought in, placed before Powhatan, and he 
seized and dragged toward them. His head 
was laid upon them, and now the savages raised 
their clubs to beat out his brains. The king’s 
daughter, Pocahontas , (it seems,) had entreated 


JOHN SMITH. 


73 


that his life might be spared, hut all her en¬ 
treaties had proved useless. Just at this mo¬ 
ment, she rushed toward the captive, folded his 
head in her arms, and laid her own upon it. In 
an instant more, poor Smith would have been 
despatched. The king’s heart was now soften¬ 
ed : he consented that the prisoner should live, 
to make hatchets for him, and bells and beads 
for his daughter. 

Whether farther entreaties of Pocahontas pre¬ 
vailed or not, we are not told j but certain it is, 
that in a little time the king was even more 
generous to the prisoner. Two days after this, 
he caused Smith to be carried to “ a great house 
in the woods,” and there to be left, seated alone 
apcn a mat, before a large fire. “ Not long 
ifte;, from behind a mat that divided the house, 
r/as made the most doleful noise he ever heard :” 
-ind in rushed Powhatan, painted black, and 
disguised “ in a fearful manner,” followed by 
two hundred other savages, as black as him¬ 
self. The chief now told him that they were 
friends, and that he might return to Jamestown. 
He had but one favor to ask of him, which was, 
that he would send him “ two great guns, and 
a grindstone,” and he promised, in return, to 
“give him the country of Capahowosick , and 
7 


74 


JOHN SMITH. 


to esteem him for ever as his son, JYantaquoud.” 
So, with twelve guides, Smith was started home¬ 
ward. Night came on, and “ they quartered in 
the woods, Smith expecting (as he had done all 
this long time of his imprisonment) every hour 
to be put to one death or other; but Almighty 
God (by his divine providence) had mollified the 
hearts of those stern Barbarians with compassion.” 
Early the next morning they reached James¬ 
town, and Smith treated his guides with great 
hospitality. He now shewed to Rawhunt , the 
trusty servant of Powhatan, (who was one of 
the guides,) the two large guns and the grind¬ 
stone for his master. The Indians tried to lift 
them, but found they were too heavy. Smith 
now had the guns loaded with stones, and dis¬ 
charged at a tree covered with icicles. The 
loud report, and the rattling of the icicles, fright¬ 
ened the savages, and they ran away. In a lit¬ 
tle time, however, they came back, and after 
being loaded with trinkets and other presents, 
for Powhatan and his daughter, they left him. 

It was well that Smith came home just at 
this time. His presence, of course, had been 
missed, and all was now confusion at James¬ 
town. The men had got to quanelling, and a 
large party had seized the pinnace determined 


JOHN SMITH. 


7b 


to leave the country. At the risk of his life once 
more, he checked this plot. He brought his 
guns to bear, and threatened to sink the pin¬ 
nace, if they attempted to move off. Inflamed 
with anger, these discontented men (the presi¬ 
dent among the number) now conspired against 
his life. They said he deserved to die, because 
he had caused the death of the two poor fellows 
who had been murdered at the canoe, in the 
meadows. Their design proved idle, for they 
knew in their hearts that he was an innocent 
man, and they soon had the worst of this effort; 
for we are told, “ he quickly took such order 
with such lawyers, that he laid them by the 
heels, till he sent some of them prisoners for 
England.” 

After this a better spirit soon prevailed. Smith 
now cheered his countrymen, by telling them of 
the rich domains of Powhatan, the plentiful 
supplies that might be obtained there, and the 
great kindness and liberality of the chief. He 
spoke, too, of the generosity of Pocahontas, and 
what aid they might expect from her. They 
soon learned for themselves to understand her 
fidelity. From time to time, she would come, 
with her train of female attendants, to James¬ 
town, bringing them stores of provisions to re- 


76 


JOHN SMITH. 


lieve their wants. Smith had made warm friends, 
also, of other Indians. The savages would now 
come in bringing presents to him, and trading 
with him at such prices as he fixed. Many of 
them had learned (it is said) to look upon him 
as a supernatural being. 

In the latter part of the year 1607, two ships 
sailed from England to the colony—the one 
commanded by their old friend Captain New¬ 
port, the other by Captain Nelson. Nelson, (it 
appears,) after coming as far as Cape Henry, 
had his ship dismasted, and contrary winds now 
drove him in distress to the West Indies. New¬ 
port, more fortunate, arrived in safety. It hap¬ 
pened, that Smith had predicted his arrival about 
this time, and while the colonists of course were 
happy upon his return, the Indians looked upon 
Smith as a prophet. They knew that Smith 
worshipped the God “ who created all things,” 
and now they would talk of the “ God of Captain 
Smith.” 

Whether it was that some of the council were 
foolishly jealous of Smith’s influence over the 
Indians, or whether it was only imprudence, 
certain it is, that they were in the strange habit 
of giving the Indians higher prices for their ar¬ 
ticles than Smith had fixed ; and now, when the 


JOHN SMITH. 


77 


sailors arrived, they were allowed to trade with 
the savages just as they pleased. The conse¬ 
quence was, that it was soon found impossible to 
obtain as much for a pound of copper, as had 
been before procured for an ounce. Newport, 
too, in sailor-like style, was very lavish in his 
dealings with the natives, and especially in 
making rich presents to Powhatan, whom he 
desired to impress with an idea of his greatness 
The arrival of the ship, therefore, made some 
little trouble. 

Smith had talked much of Newport, and his 
conversations, together with the presents, had 
made Powhatan very desirous of seeing him again. 
The boat was therefore now made ready, and 
Captain Smith, Captain Newport, and a Mr. 
Scrivener, (a gentleman who had come out on 
the last voyage of Newport, and was now a 
member of the council,) together with a guard 
of forty chosen men, started on a visit.to the 
chief. When they arrived at Werowocomoco, 
Newport, who was unacquainted with the coun¬ 
try, began to suspect treachery on the part of the 
savages. This place, you know, had been the 
home of Powhatan, but thinking it too near to 
the English, he had removed now to the village 
Orapaxe. Smith tried to convince him that his 


78 


JOHN SMITH 


fears were idle, but finding it impossible, under¬ 
took with twenty men to go on alone. But he 
began ere long to suspect mischief himself. He 
had to pass many creeks and streams, and find¬ 
ing the bridges over these to be made only of 
poles, with bark thrown over them loosely, sup¬ 
posed that they might be only traps or snares for 
the white men. It seems, however, that he had 
some Indian guides, and he made them pass over 
first, to assure himself of safety. Thus he passed 
on, until he was at length met by a party of 
three hundred savages, who kindly conducted 
him to the home of the chief. Entering the 
village, he was received with great shouts of joy, 
and then a splendid feast was prepared for him. 
Powhatan again received him in great state. 
Smith found him clothed in a fine robe of skins, 
seated “ upon his bed of mats, his pillow of 
leather embroidered after their rude manner, 
with pearl and white beads,” while “ at his head 
and feet sat a handsome young woman.” Other 
women stood around, having their heads and 
shoulders painted red, and strings of white beads 
hanging about their necks. Before these sat 
“ some of his chiefest men.” He was welcomed 
heartily by the chief, as an old friend. A guard 
of five hundred men was appointed to attend 


JOHN SMITH. 


79 


upon him, and the king’s proclamation was is¬ 
sued, that no Indian should do harm to Smith or 
any of his followers, under penalty of death. 
Then the savages commenced anew their feast¬ 
ing, with dancing and singing; and when night 
came, the party quartered with Powhatan. 

The next day Captain Newport arrived, and 
was also treated with great kindness. He had 
with him an English hoy, named Thomas Sal¬ 
vage, whom he gave to Powhatan, calling 
him his son. In return, Powhatan gave 
him Namontack, one of his trusty servants. 
Now they commenced again their dancing and 
feasting. Three or four days were spent in this 
way, together with trading, for Newport had 
brought along with him many articles of traffic. 
Powhatan bore himself like a chief, and the 
whites admired him very much; but before the 
visit was over, he proved himself to be a cunning 
old man, and would have outwitted them all, but 
for the superior cunning of Captain Smrth. I 
will tell you of his stratagem. 

While Newport was trading with him, the old 
chief became greatly dissatisfied, at what he 
thought bargaining and trafficking in a small 
•way. He said therefore to him, “ Captain New¬ 
port, it is not agreeable to my greatness, in this 


80 


JOHN SMITH. 


peddling manner to trade for trifles; and I es¬ 
teem you also a great Werowance. Therefore, 
lay me down all your commodities together: 
what I like I will take, and in recompense give 
you what I think fitting their value.” Captain 
Smith was acting as interpreter between them, 
and seeing at once the cunning of the chief, ad¬ 
vised Newport not to agree to it. But Newport, 
desirous of making a display, and thinking he 
could manage the matter himself, immediately 
consented, and spread out all his wares. Pow¬ 
hatan instantly selected such articles as pleased 
him, but when he came to making payment for 
them, set such a high value upon his corn, that 
Newport did not receive four bushels “ where he 
expected twenty hogsheads.” Smith was natu¬ 
rally enough provoked at Newport’s folly, and 
determined that, if possible, the savage should 
be no gainer by it. He now took out some 
wares of his own: among other things, some 
blue glass beads, which, as if accidentally, he 
placed where Powhatan might see them. The 
king was at once struck with them, and greatly 
desired to have them. But Smith could not con¬ 
sent to part with them. They were made (he 
said) “ of a rare substance of the color of the 
skies, and not to be worn but by the greatest 


JOHN SMITH. 


81 


kings in the world.” This only increased the 
desire of the chief: but the more he longed for 
them, the more unwilling was Smith to let them 
go. At last, as a favor, he allowed the king to 
trade for some of them, and now, for his glass 
beads, he received two or three hundred bushels 
of corn. After this, they parted good friends, 
and the party went off to see Opechancanough, 
king of Pamunke. Here they made another 
good bargain with their blue beads. Indeed, 
blue beads became now of such high value, that 
they were all bought up at almost any price, and 
none but the kings, their wives, or their daugh¬ 
ters allowed to wear them. 

They now returned to J amestown, well laden 
with provisions. Scarcely, however, had they 
stored them away, when unfortunately a fire 
broke out in the town, and consumed well 
nigh everything. Their houses, made of wood, 
and thatched with reeds and straw, were like 
tinder for the flames, and quantities of arms, 
bedding, clothing, and provisions were alike de¬ 
stroyed. In this fire, their clergyman, Mr. Hunt, 
“ lost all his library, and all he had but the 
clothes on his back, yet none ever heard him 
repine at his loss.” Indeed, most of the colonists 
appear to have borne the calamity as well as 


82 


JOHN SMITH. 


could have been expected. They saved what 
provisions they could from the flames, and by 
prudent management, there might still have been 
enough for present wants, but for the delay of the 
ship. Instead of returning homeward promptly, 
Newport and his crew were seized with a “ gold 
fever.” They were busy every day in digging 
the earth, and loading the ship with what they 
thought so much treasure. Thus they delayed sail¬ 
ing for fourteen weeks, during all which time there 
were of course so many more mouths to be filled 
in the colony. Smith and Scrivener were both 
sensible men, and looked upon all this search for 
gold as idle; but still they could not induce 
Newport to leave earlier. At length the ship 
v was ready to sail, and the poor half-starving set¬ 
tlement had to furnish supplies ere she could 
move off. They were furnished cheerfully, for 
her departure was regarded as a blessing. Wing¬ 
field and Archer, too, to the great joy of the de¬ 
cent part of the colony, were sent home in her. 
Wpon reduced allowances, their sufferings now 
increased. The winter was a very severe one, 
many of the men houseless, and though Smith 
did all that he could for their relief, before the 
cold season was ended, more than half of them 
had died. 


JOHN SMITH. 


83 


As the spring approaches Smith and Scriv¬ 
ener set resolutely to the work of rebuilding 
Jamestown. A new church was erected, the 
storehouse and palisadoes were repaired, and 
new dwelling-houses put up. The fields, too, 
were prepared under their direction, and com 
was planted. While they were engaged in all 
this, to their surprise, Captain Nelson arrived in 
the Phoenix, from the West Indies. He had 
spent his winter there, (after being driven, as 
you will remember, from the coast of Virginia,) 
and now, to their great joy, came laden with am¬ 
ple provisions for the colony, for six months. 

Nelson was a man of good spirit; his heart 
was touched with the sorrows of his country¬ 
men, and he kindly served them in any way that 
he could. He moved freely among them, en¬ 
couraging them by his words and actions, and 
rousing their drooping spirits. In this w&y he 
succeeded in awakening a spirit of enterprise, 
even in the inefficient president; for he now 
urged Smith “ to discover and search the com¬ 
modities of the Monacan’s country, beyond the 
falls of James river,” that he might profitably 
relade the ship for a return homeward. Sixty 
men were allotted to him for this adventure, 
and in six days, Smith had so drilled them to 


84 


JOHN SMITH. 


their arms, that they were ready for the enter¬ 
prise. He was for loading the vessel with cedar, 
while Martin and some others, were foolishly in¬ 
tent upon filling her also with “ golden dirt.” 
Just as he was about starting, a difficulty oc¬ 
curred, which kept him at home. The difficulty 
■was this. 

When Newport was on the point of starting, 
Powhatan had sent him as a present, twenty 
turkeys, and in return, asked that he might re¬ 
ceive twenty swords. Newport had imprudent¬ 
ly given them to him ; and now the chief sent a 
like present to Smith, making a similar demand. 
Smith refused to meet it, and the chief set his 
men at once upon various stratagems, to seize 
the arms of the colonists. Sometimes they 
would enter Jamestown, and take them by force, 
or steal them—then they would surprise the 
men at their work, and annoy them in every 
possible way. Notwithstanding this insolence, 
nothing was done in return, until they meddled 
with Smith. The colonists had orders from 
home, to keep peace with Powhatan and his 
people, and they were desirous of obeying. But 
their insolence had now touched him, and Smith 
at once “ took the matter into his own hands.” 
He sallied out with a party, seized some of 


JOHN SMITH. 


85 


the Indians and whipped them, and then re- 
turned, bringing with him seven prisoners, as 
hostages for their good behavior. But good 
behavior was not in them. They, in return, 
finding two straggling soldiers, seized them as 
prisoners: and now they advanced almost to 
the fort, in strong numbers, demanding their 
seven countrymen, and threatening immediate 
death to the whites, if they were not delivered up. 
Smith instantly sallied out amongst them again, 
and, in less than an hour, so completely cured 
their insolence, that they surrendered the two 
white men, and were glad to sue for peace. In 
making terms of peace, he forced them to 
tell their intentions. They declared, that what 
they had done was by order of Powhatan, and 
that his design was to get possession of their 
weapons, that he might destroy the whites. 
Powhatan soon finding his plans discovered, sent 
his favorite daughter, Pocahontas, with presents 
to Smith, begging that he would excuse all in¬ 
juries that might have been done by any of his 
“ untoward subjects,” and assuring him of his 
love for ever. But Smith was not to be deceived 
in this way. He punished the savages, there¬ 
fore, as he thought they deserved ; and then 
delivered up the prisoners, declaring, that it 
8 


86 


JOHN SMITH. 


was merely for the sake of the princess that he 
spared their lives. 

The Council, fearful that all this might make 
an enemy of Powhatan, were dissatisfied with 
Smith; but in a little time they perceived their 
error. The truth was, it was the only way of 
teaching the savages not to molest the settle¬ 
ment; and when they soon after discovered, 
that instead of “ having peace and war twice 
in a day,” (as had been the case for some time,) 
they enjoyed uninterrupted quiet, they were per¬ 
fectly contented. 

The ship was soon sent home, laden with 
cedar, as Smith advised; and Martin, instead of 
loading her with “ golden dirt,” as he desired, 
was himself allowed to return home in her. He 
had proved himself to be a weak and almost 
useless man in the colony, and they were well 
pleased at his departure. 


CHAPTER V. 


The adventures of Captain Smith during two 
voyages made in an open boat , for the purpose 
of exploring Chesapeake Bay. 

Order being somewhat restored, Smith now 
prepared for further adventures. His design 
was to explore the lands on Chesapeake Bay, 
and become acquainted with the inhabitants. 
As the ship hoisted sail, therefore, on the second 
day of June, with fourteen men he embarked in 
an open barge, and moved down the river. 
Parting with the ship at Cape Henry, they 
passed directly across the mouth of the bay, 
and discovered, to the east of Cape Charles, a 
group of islands, to which they gave the name 
of “ Smith's Isles." This name, I believe, they 
still bear. Soon after, in turning the last men¬ 
tioned cape, they saw two savages, who boldly 
demanded who they were, and what they came 
for. Presently they seemed more friendly, and 
directed them to Accomack , the home of their 


8R 


JOHN SMITH. 


chief. Upon reaching him, they were received 
with great kindness. Leaving him, they coasted 
along the eastern shore of the bay, “ searching 
every inlet fit for harbors and habitations.” 
Sometimes they landed upon the main land, and 
then upon the low islands which skirted the 
shores, to one group of which they gave the 
name of “ Russel’s Isles,” in honor of Doctor 
Russel, their surgeon. This group is now known, 
I think, by the name of the Tangier Islands. 
Suffering now for a supply of fresh water, they 
procured such as they could, and moving still 
farther north, were ere long, as they came near 
another group of islands, visited by a violent 
tempest. Their mast and sail were blown over¬ 
board, and with great labor they kept their 
barge from sinking. These islands, now known 
as Watt’s Islands, received from them the strange 
name of Limbo, on account of their disaster 
Here they were forced to remain two days. At 
length, the storm abated, and having repair¬ 
ed the sail with their shirts, they passed over 
to the eastern shore, and entered the river 
Wicomico. The natives, seeing them, “ ran 
amazed in troops from place to place, and 
divers got into the tops of trees.” Regarding 
them as enemies, they discharged volleys of ar- 


JOHN SMITH. 


89 


rows at them, but the barge was anchored too 
far from them, to suffer any injury. The next 
day the party landed, and entering their deserted 
huts, left copper trinkets, beads, and looking- 
glasses. When the savages found these, they 
were greatly pleased, and soon became friendly. 
Here, upon this river, we are told,* lived “ the 
people of Sarapinagh, Nause, Arseek, and Nan- 
taquak, the best merchants of all other sav¬ 
ages .’ 5 

“ Finding this eastern shore shallow broken 
isles, and for most part without fresh water,” 
they determined to pass over to the western 
shore of the bay. Proceeding some distance 
further north without discovering any thing 
remarkable, they crossed, and came coasting 
down the western side, marking all the creeks 
and rivers. To the first large river which they 
entered on this side, they gave the name of 
Bolus, because “ the clay, in many places, did 
grow up in red and white knots, as gum out of 
trees,” which made them “think it bole am - 
moniac .” The river is now known by the Indian 
name Patapsco. Here the crew commenced 
murmuring. Their bread had been damaged by 
the rain } in an open boat, exposed to all weather, 
* Smith’s Virginia, vol. i. page 175. 

8 * 


90 


JOHN SMITH. 


they had spent twelve or fourteen days toiling 
at the oar, and they now urged Smith to return 
homeward. But he was for making farther 
discoveries, and answered them in the following 
words, which at once shew his spirit and reso¬ 
lution :— 

“ Gentlemen, if you would remember the 
memorable history of Sir Ralph Lane, how his 
company importuned him to proceed in the dis¬ 
covery of Moratico, alleging they had yet a 
dog, that being boiled with sassafras leaves, 
would richly feed them in their return: then 
what a shame would it be for you, (that have 
been so suspicious of my tenderness,) to force 
me to return, with so much provision as we 
have, and scarce able to say where we have 
been, nor yet heard of that we were sent to 
seek 1 You cannot say but I have shared with 
you in the worst which is past; and for what 
is to come of lodging, diet, or whatsoever, I am 
contented you allot the worst part to myself. 
And for your fears, that I will lose myself in 
these unknown large waters, or be swallowed 
up in some stormy gust: abandon these childish 
fears, for worse than is past is not likely to happen, 
and there is as much danger to return as to pro¬ 
ceed. Regain, therefore, your old spirits, for re- 


JOHN SMITH. 


91 


turn I will not, (if God please,) til? X have seen 
the Massawomeks, found Patawomek, or the 
head of this water you conceit to be endless.”* 
Some of the discontented were now ashamed, 
out others who w T ere half sick, still complain¬ 
ed, and to please them, Smith reluctantly 
started homeward. Passing southwardly, ere 
long they fell in with the mouth of the river 
Potomac. As the stream came rolling broad 
and beautiful into the bay, the spirits of the men 
revived, and now they “ were all content to 
take some pains to know the name of that seven 
mile broad stream.” They sailed thirty miles 
up the river, without finding any inhabitants. At 
length, seeing two savages, they were conducted 
by them up a little creek, where they soon dis¬ 
covered multitudes of the natives. The truth was, 
it was an ambuscade. Three or four thousand 
savages were lying in wait here, ready to in¬ 
snare them; and now they came forward with 
hideous yells, making threatening gestures to¬ 
ward them. Smith was not frightened, but pre¬ 
pared very coolly for an encounter. As an an¬ 
swer to their threats, he commanded his men to 
discharge their muskets over the water. This 
was sufficient. The grazing of the balls upon 
* Smith’s Virginia, vol. i. pages 176, 177. 


92 


JOHN SMITH. 


the water, and the loud echo of the report 
through the woods, terrified the natives. They 
threw down their bows and arrows, sued for 
peace, and at once exchanged hostages. James 
Watkins (one of Smith’s party) was now sent 
six miles higher up, to the residence of their 
king. In a little time these Indians became un¬ 
usually friendly, and frankly told Smith tlmr 
whole plan. They had for some time been ty¬ 
ing in wait for the party, in the hope of cutting 
them off. To this deed they had been excited 
by Powhatan, who had heard of Smith’s in¬ 
tended expedition up the bay, through some of 
the worthless and discontented men at James¬ 
town. These miserable men, because Smith 
had prevented them from deserting the colony, 
had thus, in revenge, attempted a plot for his 
destruction. 

They now moved up the river as far as their 
boat would float. In their progress they some¬ 
times met Indian canoes, laden with bear’s any 
deer’s flesh, and readily obtained supplies; then 
again they would fall in with hostile and threat¬ 
ening savages, or others whose character then 
doubted; but Smith’s prudence and courage were 
ample always for this kind of difficulty. Pie 
had one regular mode of proceeding. When he 


JOHN SMITH. 


93 


met the savages, he always put on a bold face: 
if they seemed to desire peace, he would at 
once demand their bows and arrows, and one 
or two of their children, as pledges for their sin¬ 
cerity. If they complied with the demand, he 
regarded them as friends; if they refused, they 
were looked upon as enemies, and treated ac¬ 
cordingly. 

Having frequently heard of a rich mine in 
this neighborhood, Smith determined to visit 
it. An Indian guide was procured, and in a 
little time some of the party reached it. They 
commenced digging the earth, and soon fdled 
several bags with just such stuff as Newport had 
taken home for so much silver ore, but which 
proved utterly worthless. The Indians thought 
much of this mine. It produced a substance 
“ like antimony,” which, after washing, th’ey 
used as paint, to beautify themselves and their 
idols. This paint (we are told) only “ made 
them look like blackamoors, dusted over with 
silver,” but they thought it very beautiful. The 
party, though they discovered no mineral trea¬ 
sures, found some profit in this adventure, for 
they returned to the barge well laden with ot¬ 
ter’s, l ear’s, and martin’s skins, which they ob¬ 
tained from a straggling party of savages. 


94 


JOHN SMITH. 


They now came down the Potomac, seeing no¬ 
thing farther, worthy of remark, except the great 
quantities of fish in the water. 

The men being now in better humor, Smith 
was in no hurry to return homeward, and 
therefore resolved to move up the Rappahan¬ 
nock, and visit his old Indian acquaintances, 
where he had once been in captivity. As the 
barge came near the mouth of the stream, she 
ran aground, and while they were waiting for 
the flood tide to take her off, the men amused 
themselves by catching fish in a curious way. 
Quantities of them had been left by the tide upon 
the flats, and sticking them with the points of 
their swords, they “ took more in an hour than 
they could eat in a day.” Sporting in this way, 
Smith met with an accident, which alarmed him 
and all his friends, and at once gave a name to 
the place, which it still bears. Having stuck 
his sword into a stingray , (a curious fish, with 
a long tail, having stings at the end of it,) the 
fish raised his tail, and struck him on the wrist. 
No blood followed the wound, but in a little 
time he was seized with the most violent pain, 
and in four hours, his hand, arm, and shoulder 
were so much swollen, that Smith himself, as 
well as his companions, supposed he was dying 


JOHN SMITH. 


95 


With great calmness, he directed where they 
should bury his body, and with sorrowful hearts 
they ‘ 6 prepared his grave in an island hard by.” 
Their sad labors, however, proved unnecessary. 
The surgeon, Dr. Russel, having probed the 
wound, by means of a certain oil so far relieved 
the pain and swelling, that Smith, as night ap¬ 
proached, was so much better that he was able 
to eat a part of the fish for his supper. The 
point of land where this occurred, took the name 
of Stingray Point. 

It was the twenty-first of July when they 
reached Jamestown ; having been absent more 
than six weeks. As they came near the town, 
Smith determined to frighten old President Rat- 
cliflfe. The old man was known to be weak and 
inefficient, and the crew were all ready to enjoy 
the frolic. With the colored earth from their 
bags, they painted the barge and decked her off 
with strange streamers in such a way, that they 
succeeded admirably. The terrified old man 
roused the colonists, supposing that a party of 
Spaniards were approaching to attack him. 
When they landed and shewed themselves, they 
all enjoyed a hearty laugh. 

As usual, Smith found that his absence had 
produced confusion in the colony. The presi- 


96 


JOHN SMITH. 


dent had been rioting upon the public stores, and 
was now engaged in building for himself a house 
in the woods, where, living alone, he might es¬ 
cape the murmurs of the people. Even the poor 
colonists who were sick had been neglected; 
this added to the discontent, and now the gener¬ 
al cry was, that Ratcliffe was not fit for presi¬ 
dent, and ought to be deposed. He was conse¬ 
quently turned out of his office, and Smith chosen 
to fill his place. The captain had not yet ex¬ 
plored the bay as thoroughly as he desired, and 
his design was to be off again as soon as possible. 
He remained therefore but three days at James¬ 
town, cheering the men by the story of his ad¬ 
ventures, dividing provisions amongst them, and 
making other arrangements for their comfort; 
and then appointing Mr. Scrivener to act as his 
deputy during his absence, was ready for his 
departure. 

On the twenty-fourth of July, with twelve 
men, he again started. Contrary winds detained 
them for two or three days at Kecoughtan, where 
the savages treated them with great hospitality. 
To amuse them in return, they set off at night a 
few rockets, which alarmed the natives, and gave 
them a wonderful idea of their greatness. The 
wind now changing,, they proceeded on their 


JOHN SMITH. 


97 


voyage, and anchored at night off Stingray Point. 
The next day they crossed the mouth of the Po¬ 
tomac, and reached as far as the river Bolus, or 
Patapsco. Hastening onward, they came ere 
long to the head of the bay. Here they dis¬ 
covered four streams, all of which they explored 
as far as their boat could sail, and found inhabi¬ 
tants on the banks of two of them only. As 
they crossed the bay, they spied seven or eight 
canoes filled with Indians, who proved to belong 
to the tribe of the Massawomeks, a warlike 
people of whom Smith had often heard. It 
seems that only six men in the barge w T ere now 
able to stand ; (the rest being sick;) yet as these 
Indians shewed signs of hostility, Smith prepared 
to meet them. The whites dropped their oars, 
and under a press of sail soon came near them. 
To give them the appearance of strength in the 
eyes of the Indians, they now resorted to a strat¬ 
agem. The hats of the sick men were hoisted 
upon sticks, and between every two sticks, a 
man was stationed with two muskets. The 
savages, counting the hats, were readily deceived 
as to the number of men, quickly paddle^ 
the shore, and there stood gazing at the barge. 
It was a long time, before any of them could be 
induced to come on board. At length they sent 
9 


98 


JOHN SMITH. 


two of their number unarmed in a canoe, while 
the rest all followed, to help them if it became 
necessary. Their fears were soon over. When 
the two reached the barge, upon bells and other 
trinkets being presented to them, they persuaded 
their companions to come on board. In a little 
time they were trading freely, and by means 
of signs talking freely with the whites. Veni¬ 
son, bears’ flesh, fish, bows, arrows, clubs, tar¬ 
gets, and bear-skins, were readily exchanged for 
such things as the whites could spare. They were 
at war with the Tockwoghe Indians, (a people 
living upon the Tockwoghe, or what is now 
known as the Sassafras River,) and these Mas- 
sawomeks were just returning from a battle, 
with their w T ounds still bleeding. 

Soon after, upon entering the Tockwoghe 
River, they found the barge surrounded by fleets 
of canoes “ filled with fierce looking warriors.” 
These were Tockwoghes. Fortunately, one of 
these Indians could speak the language of Powha¬ 
tan, and he persuaded his companions “ to hold a 
friendly parley” with the whites. Upon coming 
liVxCtl 5 and seeing Smith’s party in possession of 
some of the weapons of the Massawomeks, they 
at once concluded that they had been at war 
with that nation; and now they conducted them 


JOHN SMITH. 


99 


in triumph, to their strong pallisadoed town. 
Here, mats were spread for them to sit upon, 
and they were entertained with songs, dancing, 
and feasting. These Indians had hatchets, knives, 
and pieces of iron and brass, which they said they 
received from the Susquehanocks, a tribe living 
on the Susquehanock River, “ two days’ journey 
higher than the barge could pass.” This tribe 
they reported to be, like themselves, “ mortal 
enemies to the Massawomeks.” Smith was de¬ 
sirous of seeing these people, and prevailed upon’ 
the Tockwoghes to send an interpreter, to invite 
them to come and visit him. In answer to this 
invitation, in three or four days, sixty of them 
came down, laden with presents of venison, bask¬ 
ets, targets, bows and arrows. A curious scene 
now occurred with these men, which will at once 
show the proper habits of Smith, and the light 
in which they regarded him. 

It was his daily custom to have “ prayers and 
a psalm” with his men. The poor savages, 
marking his devotions, were struck with wonder, 
and soon commenced theirs. “ They began in 
a most passionate manner to hold up their hands 
to the sun, with a most fearful song: then em¬ 
bracing the captain, they began to adore him in 
like manner : though he rebuked them, yet they 


100 


JOHN SMITH. 


proceeded till their song was finished: which 
done, with a most strange furious action, and a 
hellish voice, began an oration of their loves; 
that ended, with a great painted bear’s skin they 
covered him ; then one ready with a great chain 
of white beads, weighing at least six or seven 
pounds, hung it about his neck; the others had 
eighteen mantels, made of divers sorts of skins 
sewed together; all these with many other toys 
they laid at his feet, stroking their ceremonious 
hands about his neck, for his creation to be their 
governor and protector, promising their aid, 
victuals, or what they had, to be his, if he would 
stay with them, to defend and revenge them of 
the Massawomeks.” Their promises and en¬ 
treaties did not prevail, and in a little time Smith 
with his party moved off from the Tockwoghe 
River, leaving them “ very sorrowful for their 
departure.” 

Coming down the bay, they continued ex¬ 
ploring every inlet and headland, and giving 
names to them in honor of some of their compa¬ 
ny. To mark their right of possession as dis¬ 
coverers, after moving up the streams as far as 
their barge would float, they would erect crosses, 
or boring holes in the trees, would deposite 
in them notes or crosses of brass. The Patuxent 


JOHN SMITH. 


101 


River was particularly explored, and they again 
visited the Potomac, on both of which streams 
they were treated kindly by the inhabitants. 

Ere long they entered the Rappahannock. 
Here they met a friendly people known as the 
Moraughtacunds, and among them an old Indian 
acquaintance. This was a man by the name of 
Mosco—a curious looking fellow who had served 
as their guide to the mine on the Potomac, on 
their former visit. Unlike most of his country¬ 
men, this man had a black bushy beard, of which 
he was very proud, and thinking he resembled 
the whites, was very happy to call them “ his 
countrymen.” His home (I believe) was on the 
Potomac, but like most Indians, he was a wan¬ 
derer. Mosco was very kind, and urged Smith 
in no case to visit the Rappahannocks, stating 
that they were a hostile people, and would pro¬ 
bably kill them for being friends to the Moraugh¬ 
tacunds. These Moraughtacunds, it appeared, 
had lately stolen three women from the chief of 
the Rappahannocks, and the tribes were on no 
friendly terms. Mosco’s words weighed little 
with Smith. He supposed that his whole state¬ 
ment, was only a cunning story invented to 
keep his men trading where they were, and 
therefore passed on up the river. Mosco, ac- 
9 * 


102 


JOHN SMITH. 


companied him, still repeating what he had said, 
and this induced Smith to take one precaution. 
The Massawomeks, you will remember, had given 
them, among other things, some targets. These 
were nothing more than shields “ made of little 
small sticks, woven betwixt strings of their 
hemp and silk grass, as is our cloth, but so firm¬ 
ly that no arrow can possibly pierce them.” These 
targets were now set up as a sort of breast-work 
in the bow of the boat, in case of danger. Pre¬ 
sently the danger was at hand. Upon coming 
near a little creek, they discovered some canoes 
at the shore, and upon seeing the savages, offer¬ 
ed to exchange hostages. The Indians, after 
consultation, readily consented. Five of them 
now walked out in the stream to the barge, 
bringing their man, and proposing to receive one 
of the whites in return. They came without 
clubs, bows, or arrows, and seemed in every way 
friendly. The caution of Smith, however, in 
duced him to send one of his men (Anas Tod 
kill) ashore, to observe if there were any signs 
of an ambuscade. The man performed his part 
well, though he came near losing his life. Upon 
landing, he said he wished to go over the land 
to bring some wood. The Indians refused to 
allow him to go, unless the barge would enter the 


JOHN SMITH. 


103 


creek, and come near the shore. This seemed 
strange; but Todkill, being a resolute man, 
started onward. Now he perceived their cun¬ 
ning. He had not gone far, when he discovered 
some tw'o or three hundred Indians lurking 
behind the trees. He turned back, calling to 
his countrymen that they were betrayed. The 
hostage in the barge instantly leaped into the 
water, but was instantly killed. The savages 
pursued Todkill with clouds of arrows; the party 
in the barge discharged their muskets, and pull¬ 
ed for the shore. Todkill fell wounded, but his 
countrymen were now on the land and rescued 
him. Thus Mosco’s words had proved true; 
and to reward him for his fidelity, Smith, after 
gathering and breaking all the arrows that could 
be found, presented to him the canoes of the 
Rappahannocks. 

Notwithstanding this unkind reception, Smith 
was resolved to proceed up the river. The rest 
of the day, therefore, was spent in fixing the 
barge in better condition for any farther attack. 
Targets were now raised along the sides, making 
a thorough breast-work all around the barge. 
The next morning they started, and in a little 
time felt the benefit of this prudence. As they 
reached a narrow pass in the river, they heard 


104 


JOHN SMITH. 


the sudden twang of bowstrings, and arrows 
fell fast around them. Mosco fell flat in the 
boat, crying out “ the Rappahannocks.” Upon 
looking out they saw no enemy. The banks of 
the stream were lined with beautiful green 
bushes : all was still, and they were at a loss to 
understand where an enemy could be. Ere long 
they saw the branches moving, and discovered 
the stratagem. It seems that thirty or forty 
Rappahannocks had “ so accommodated them¬ 
selves with branches as to look like little bushes 
growing among the sedge.” The whites in¬ 
stantly discharged their muskets; the savages 
fell down in the sedge, and the barge moved on. 
After passing on about half a mile, upon looking 
back they saw these enemies, who now showed 
themselves openly, “ dancing and singing very 
merrily.” Thus Mosco’s words were verified a 
second time. 

In their farther ascent up this river, they 
met nothing but kindness. Some of the men 
(who from exposure had been sick) now re¬ 
covered, with the exception of one, a worthy 
man, whose death was much lamented by his 
comrades. This was Richard Fetherstone. On 
the shore of a “ little bay” his companions dug 
his grave, and in honor of his good character 


JOHN SMITH. 


105 


and services, as his body was laid in the ground, 
the guns were fired over him, and the place 
marked as “Fetherstone’s Bay.” 

Being now at the falls of the river, they went 
ashore, and some commenced setting up crosses 
and marking their names upon trees, while others 
wandered about in search of “ stones, herbs, and 
springs of water.” They had taken the precau¬ 
tion to post a sentinel on duty, and as an arrow 
fell by him, he gave the alarm. Scarcely had 
they rallied and seized their arms, when they 
were attacked by a hundred savages. Sheltered 
behind the trees, the Indians kept up the fight 
for a half hour and then retreated. Mosco’s 
services here, proved very valuable in bringing 
about this retreat. He discharged his arrows 
among them so rapidly, that the retreating men 
imagined that a body of Indians was in league 
with the whites, and that their position was des¬ 
perate. After the skirmish was over, upon look¬ 
ing around, they discovered one of the enemy 
lying upon the ground, bleeding freely. He 
had been badly wounded by a ball, and Mosco, 
savage like, would soon have despatched him 
by beating out his brains. From this cruelty, 
however, he was restrained. The poor fellow’s 
wounds were dressed by Dr. Russel the surgeon. 


106 


JOHN SMITH. 


and in an hour or two, he was able to eat and 
speak. Mosco now questioned him, to know 
who he was. He said he belonged to the tribe 
of Hassininga, one of the four composing the 
nation of the Mannahocks. When asked why 
his people had in this manner attacked the whites 
who came among them in peace and kindness, 
he answered that they had heard the whites 
“ were a people come from under the world to 
take their world from them.” Mosco asked him 
how many worlds there were. He replied that 
“ he knew no more but that which was under 
the sky that covered him, which belonged to the 
Powhatans, the Monacans, and the Massawo- 
meks that were higher up in the mountains.” 
When asked what there was beyond the moun¬ 
tains, his answer was, “ the sun.” “ The Mona¬ 
cans,” he said, “ were their neighbors and friends, 
and did dwell as they, in the hilly countries by 
small rivers, living upon roots and fruits, but 
chiefly by hunting. The Massawomeks did dwell 
upon a great water, and had many boats, and so 
many men that they made war with all the 
world.* For their kings, they were gone every 
one a several way with their men on hunting * 

* Stith, in his history of Virginia, supposes these Massawo. 
meks may have been the same as the Six Nations.” 


JOHN SMITH. 


107 


but. those with him came thither a fishing till 
they saw us, notwithstanding they would be all 
together at night at Mahaskahod After this, 
the whites presented him with many toys, and 
persuaded him to go along with them. Mosco 
now urged that they should immediately leave 
this region, for he suspected treachery. But 
the captive begged that they would stay till night, 
and see the kings of the Mannahocks, who would 
befriend them for their kind usage of him. In 
spite of the remonstrances of Mosco, they de¬ 
termined to remain, and he, shewing that he still 
had his own thoughts, busied himself all day in 
preparing his arrows. 

All this time the chief of Hassininga was mov¬ 
ing among his countrymen, and consulting as to 
what should be done. At night the English de¬ 
parted, and ere long they were attacked from the 
banks by the Mannahocks. They followed them 
all night, yelling, and hallooing, and shooting their 
arrows. They could be brought to no terms of 
peace, for their noise was so loud that the voice 
of their countryman in the barge could not be 
heard. When morning dawned, the barge an¬ 
chored, and Amoroleck, (this was the name of 
their captive countryman,) shewing himself, was 

•Smith’s Virginia—Vol. I.,page 187 


108 


JOHN SMITH. 


able to speak to them. He told them that he 
had been used very kindly ; that there was one 
of the Potomacs along who would have killed 
him, but the whites had saved him; that he 
could have his liberty if they would be friends 
to the whites, and even if they chose rather to 
be enemies, they could do them no possible harm. 
Upon this, they all hung their bows and quivers 
upon the trees, and two now came swimming to 
;he barge, the one bringing upon his head a bow, 
the other a quiver of arrows. These were pre¬ 
sented to Captain Smith in token of submission. 
He treated them very kindly, and told them that 
if the other three kings would do the same thing, 
he would be a friend to their nation. This was 
hardly demanded, before it was assented to. The 
parties now went ashore upon a low point of 
land near by, the acts of submission were per¬ 
formed, and Amoroleck was delivered up to his 
countrymen. The whites were soon again on 
their way, leaving upon the shore four or five 
hundred Indians, singing, dancing, and making 
loud rejoicings. 

As they came down the river, they found 
all the friendly Indians greatly rejoiced to hear 
of their success over the Mannahocks, for these 
people were not looked upon as friends by 


JOHN SMITH. 


109 


any of the tribes on the*river. When the} 
reached the Moraughtacunds, they began strange* 
ly to urge Captain Smith to make peace with 
the Rappahannocks. This was probably done 
in the hope, that they (who, you will remem¬ 
ber, were not on good terms with the Rap¬ 
pahannocks) might profit by whatever Smith 
should do. After much entreaty, Smith agreed 
to make peace with them upon certain condi¬ 
tions. They had twice attacked him without 
any cause, (he said,) yet he would forgive these 
injuries, and be to them a friend, if the chief of 
the Rappahannocks would deliver to him his bow 
and quiver in token of submission; agree never 
to come armed into his presence, to live in friend¬ 
ship with the Moraughtacunds, and, last of all. 
to give up his son as a pledge for the faithful 
performance of these terms. A message was 
immediately sent to the chief, and he came, readi¬ 
ly assenting to all the terms but the last. He 
had but one son, and his heart (he said) would 
break at parting with him. Instead of the boy 
he was willing to deliver up the three women 
whom the Moraughtacunds had stolen. Smith 
assented to this, and now the chief, in the pre¬ 
sence of many, laid down his bow and arrows, 
and then the three women were brought forward. 

10 


110 


JOHN SMITH. 


To the chief of thetftappahannocks Smith gave 
the first choice, that he might select her he loved 
best ; to the chief of the Moraughtacunds the se¬ 
cond, and the faithful Mosco took the remaining 
one. Thus the treaty was ended, and all parties 
were pleased. The men, women, and children 
ah joined in feasting, dancing, and singing. 
Mosco was so much pleased with this new ar¬ 
rangement made by the captain, that, to shew 
his love for the whites, he changed his name. 
They were usually known as “ the strangers ,” 
and he took, therefore, the name Uttasantasough, 
meaning the stranger. The savages, in their joy, 
promised also to plant corn purposely for their 
benefit, and the English, in return, agreed to pro¬ 
vide hatchets, beads, and copper for them. Then 
discharging their fire-arms, the barge pushed off 
amid the loud shouts and cries of the Indians. 

Next, they entered the Piankatank River, and 
explored that as far as the barge would float. 
They found on the banks of this stream only 
some old men, women, and children, the younger 
men being all out upon hunting excursions. 
They were treated with kindness, and soon left 
them. 

In passing down the bay, a little to the south 
of York River, they were struck by a squall in 


JOHN SMITH. 


Ill 


the night, and with great difficulty escaped ship¬ 
wreck. The wind blew violently toward the 
shore, and, in the darkness, their little barge 
more than once nearly stranded, but a flash of 
lightning would from time to time disclose their 
perilous position, and keeping clear of the land 
as well as they could, they were at length ena¬ 
bled, by God’s mercy, to reach Point Comfort, 
where they anchored. 

The next morning Smith determined, before 
he returned home, to visit certain neighbors of 
whom he had often heard. These were the 
Chesapeakes and Nandsamonds. Setting sail 
therefore for the southern shore, he soon entered 
the narrow river, known then as the Chesapeake. 
This is now the Elizabeth River, upon which 
Norfolk is situated. The river “ had a good 
channel, but some shoals about the entrance.” 
They sailed up six or seven miles, and saw 
two or three little garden plots, with houses, and 
the shores overgrown with the largest pines 
they had ever seen in the country; but neither 
seeing or hearing any people, and the river be¬ 
ing very narrow, they returned back, and coast¬ 
ed the shore towards Nandsamond. “At the 
mouth of the Nandsamond,” they spied some six or 
seven Indians making weirs for fishing, who fled 


112 


JOHN SMITH. 


as soon as they were discovered. The party went 
ashore, and leaving many toys and trinkets 
where the Indians had been working, returned 
to the barge. In a little time the Indians re¬ 
turned, and began to dance and sing, and call 
them back. One of them, without fear, came 
out to the barge, and invited them to come up 
the river, and visit him at his house. The in¬ 
vitation was accepted, and they moved onward. 
They observed the banks of the stream lined with 
fine fields of corn, and ere long approached an 
island, which seemed to be richly cultivated. 
This island was the home of their host. Here 
they went ashore, and were treated by him with 
great kindness, and in return gave many toys to 
his wife and children. Other Indians now came, 
inviting them higher up the river to their houses. 
The party, accepting their invitation also, were 
moving on in good faith, when suddenly their 
suspicions were aroused. Some six or eight 
canoes were seen behind them, filled with armed 
men. The stratagem was soon at work. They 
had reached a narrow pass in the river, and now 
the attack commenced. An ambuscade of three 
or four hundred Chesapeakes and Nandsamonds 
poured their arrows from the land, while clouds 
of arrows came from the canoes in the rear 


JOHN SMITH. 


113 


The Massawomek targets covered the men in the 
barge, while with their muskets they answered 
this assault. The savages leaped from the ca¬ 
noes and swam for the shore, while the barge 
dropped down into a broader part of the stream, 
the men on board keeping up a perpetual fire. 
Now beyond the reach of their arrows, they con¬ 
tinued the war upon their enemies on the land, 
until they were all glad to disperse. Fortu¬ 
nately, not one of the party in the barge was 
hurt. 

Smith resolved upon vengeance. He seized 
all their deserted boats, and determined at 
night to burn every thing upon the island. In 
the mean time, his men commenced breaking the 
canoes. The poor Indians, seeing this, threw 
down their arms, and sued for peace. Smith 
made his own terms. He commanded them 
to bring the chief’s bow and arrows, a chain of 
pearl, and four hundred baskets of corn, other¬ 
wise he would destroy all that they had. The 
Indians “ most joyfully” agreed to the con¬ 
ditions, and “ flocking down in great numbers, 
with their baskets, soon loaded the boat with 
corn.” 

The party now started homeward. They 
met with no farther adventures by the way, 
10 * 


114 


JOHN SMITH. 


and at length, on the seventh of September, ar¬ 
rived at Jamestown in great “joy and triumph.” 
In the two voyages together, Smith had been ab¬ 
sent from the colony a little more than three 
months, with the exception of the three days 
which you will recollect he spent at James¬ 
town.* 

* Captain Smith made a map of Chesapeake Bay and the 
countries which he explored upon its banks or tributary 
streams. This map will be found published in his History ol 
Virginia. 


( 










CHAPTER VI. 


Smith enters upon his new duties as President 
—Arrival of Captain Newport—His plan for 
finding the South Sea—Brings presents to 
Powhatan—Smith opposes the project—The 
project goes on — Smith's visit to Powhatan — 
Tells him of the presents—His haughty reply — 
The presents are brought to the chief—He is 
crowned—Newport attempts to find the South 
Sea and fails—Employment of the men — 
Smith's mode of breaking up the bad habit of 
swearing among his men—Bad conduct of the 
sailors—Departure of the ship—Letter of the 
Council in England to Smith—His reply — 
Smith goes to Nandsamond and obtains supplies 
—He afterwards attempts to seize Powhatan 
and his stores—Is betrayed—The friendship 
of Pocahontas prevents his being captured . 

•* 

Smith was grieved to find, upon his return, 
that many of the poor colonists had died, but 
delighted to discover that Mr. Scrivener had 
proved faithful, and administered all affairs well. 


116 


JOHN SMITH. 


Ratcliff, the old president, had again made trou¬ 
ble, and was now a prisoner, under the charge 
of mutiny. In three days Smith was regularly 
invested with the office of president, and set to 
work with his usual energy. “ The church was 
repaired, the store-house new covered, and a 
place made ready for the reception of the sup¬ 
plies they daily expected from England. The 
fort was reduced into form, the order of the 
watch was renewed, the troops trained at each 
setting of the w T atch, and the whole company 
every Saturday exercised in the plain toward 
the west, which was prepared for that purpose, 
and called Smitlifield ; where sometimes above 
an hundred Indians would stand in amazement, 
to behold how a file would batter a tree, when 
the president had made them a mark to shoot 
at.”* As it was the time of gathering corn 
with the Indians, the boats also were made 
ready for a trading voyage, and sent off under 
the command of Lieutenant Percy. On their 
way, to their great joy, they met Captain Newport 
returning w T ith the second supply, and they all 
came back with him to Jamestown. 

Newport had brought out with him this time 
many people of consequence, among whom w r ere 
* Stith’s Virginia, page 76. 


JOHN SMITH. 


117 


Captains Peter Wynne and Richard Waldo, (two 
old soldiers,) as new members of the council. 
Aboard the ship also were Mrs. Forest and her 
maid Ann Burras, the first English women ever 
seen in Virginia. Some Poles and Germans had 
likewise been sent along, “ to make pitch, tar, 
glass, mills, and soap ashes.” He had received 
from the company at home the strange and 
foolish instruction, “ not to return without a 
lump of gold, or finding the South Sea, or dis¬ 
covering one of the lost company sent out in 
former years by Sir Walter Raleigh.” For the 
purpose of aiding him in this South Sea scheme, 
he had with him a barge, made to be taken in 
pieces, carried beyond the falls of the river, re¬ 
constructed, and there launched for the adven¬ 
ture. To secure the friendship of Powhatan in 
his great enterprise, he had brought rich pre¬ 
sents for him. These consisted of a basin and 
ewer, bed and bedstead, a chair of state, a suit 
of rich clothing, and a crown. 

When Newport talked of his plans, Smith op¬ 
posed him strongly. He was a man of too much 
good sense to give in to any such scheme of folly. 
He said plainly, that instead of sending the men 
off upon any such expedition, they should be em¬ 
ployed in procuring provisions for the coming 


118 


JOHN SMITH. 


winter. But Newport at once promised to make 
this a part of the enterprise, stating that he 
would bring supplies of corn hack with him. 
In addition, too, he promised large supplies from 
the ship—a promise which was so little veri¬ 
fied, that before the ship sailed, the poor colo¬ 
nists had to spare three hogsheads of corn to 
victual her homeward. Smith objected, too, to 
making such rich presents to Powhatan. It 
was now easy (he said) to satisfy him at any 
time with a present of beads and other trinkets; 
but after receiving such gifts as these, Powhatan 
would ever be proud and insolent. Newport 
was before this jealous of Smith, and this oppo¬ 
sition made him the more so. He declared that 
the council were all ready for the enterprise, 
and that Smith alone prevented it; that the 
cause of this opposition arose from two cir¬ 
cumstances: first, that he was desirous of 
making the discovery himself for his own glory; 
and next, that he knew his former cruelty to the 
Indians, by provoking their hostility to the ex¬ 
ploring party, would be the only cause pre¬ 
venting success. Far from being angry, Smith 
determined at once to prove the utter falsehood 
of such statements, by aiding the mad scheme, 
as far as he could. Accordingly, he resolved 


JOHN SMITH. 


119 


to visit Powhatan, and invite him to come to 
Jamestown and receive the presents. 

With Captain Waldo, and three more as his 
companions, he walked twelve miles, and then 
passed over the river in an Indian canoe to 
Werowocomoco, where he hoped to find the 
chief. Powhatan, however, was thirty miles 
farther in the country, and messengers were im¬ 
mediately sent for him. The princess Pocahon¬ 
tas was here, and while they waited for her father, 
she, with her women, entertained them with 
dancing and feasting, “ after a curious manner.” 

A large fire was made in the open plain, and 
the party seated before it. Suddenly, such a 
noise was heard in the woods, that they supposed 
they were betrayed. Instantly they sprang to 
their arms, and seized three old men as hostages 
for their security. Upon this, Pocahontas came 
running to Smith, and offered to be killed* her¬ 
self, if any harm should happen to him or his 
companions. Pacified by this, they seated them¬ 
selves quietly again In a little time thirty girls 
came forward, richly painted of different colors, 
and each one wearing a girdle of green leaves. 
“ Their leader had a pair of buck’s horns on her 
head, an otter’s skin as her girdle, and another 
on one arm : a bow and arrow in the other hand, 


120 


JOHN SMITH. 


and a quiver at her back.” Some carried wood 
en staffs in their hands. Forming themselves in 
a ring, for an hour they kept up their dancing, 
singing, and shouting. After this the fe'ast com¬ 
menced, and the Indian girls waited upon them 
as they ate. At night, they were conducted to 
their lodgings by the light of fire-brands. 

The next morning Powhatan arrived, and 
Smith came before him with his message. After 
telling him of Newport’s arrival and plans, and 
that he had brought for him rich presents from the 
king of the English, who was ready to assist him 
in his war against the Monacans, he invited him 
to come at once to Jamestown and receive the 
gifts. To this invitation, the chief gave him this 
proud answer: “If your king has sent me a 
present, I also am a king, and am on my own 
land. I will stay here eight days. Your father 
must come to me; I will not go to him, nor to 
your fort. As for the Monacans, I am able to 
revenge myself. If you have heard of salt water 
beyond the mountains from any of my people, 
they have ’deceived you.” Then with a stick, 
he drew upon the ground plots of that region of 
country, and Smith started homeward with his 
answer. 

The answer being delivered, the presents were 


JOHN SMITH* 


121 


now sent around by water, while Smith and 
Newport went across by land with a guard of 
fifty men. All having met at Werowocomoco, 
the next day wa appointed for crowning the 
chief. In the morning the presents were brought 
forward—the basin and ewer were placed before 
him, and the bed and furniture set up. His 
scarlet clothes were brought in, but there was 
some difficulty in inducing the old man to put 
them on, nor would he do it until the Indian boy 
Naraontack (who, you will remember, had been 
given to Newport, and had been in England 
with him) assured him that they could not hurt 
him. The hardest part was yet to come, for it 
was impossible to make him kneel, that the crown 
might be placed upon his head. “ He neither 
knew the majesty of a crown, nor the meaning 
of bending the knee, which obliged them to use 
so many persuasions, examples, and instructions, 
as tired them all.” At last, by leaning hard on 
his shoulders, he stooped a little, and then being 
ready with the crown, they put it on his head. A 
pistol was now fired as a signal to the boats, and 
instantly a volley of musketry was heard, in 
honor of the crowned chief. The man most 
honored, least understood it. He started alarmed, 
supposing that there was a plot to destroy him, 
11 


122 


JOHN SMITH. 


in “ the midst of his glory.” Being assured that 
no harm was intended, he became satisfied, and 
began to return what he thought suitable kind¬ 
nesses. His old fur mantle and deer skin shoes 
were delivered to Newport for his king, and to 
“ his father Newport” was given for himself “ an 
heap of ears of corn, containing perhaps some 
seven or eight bushels.” Newport having talked 
largely of going to the salt water, and visiting 
the region of the Monacans, the last counsel of 
the old man at parting was, that he should not 
attempt it; but if he was determined to try it, 
he would allow him no guides but the Indian boy 
Namontack. 

Thus the ceremony with Powhatan had end¬ 
ed, and now they were again in Jamestown, with 
little hope of any help from him in finding the 
South Sea, after all their trouble. Still, New¬ 
port was resolved upon the effort. Accordingly, 
with one hundred and twenty chosen men, led 
by Captain Waldo, Lieutenant Percy, Captain 
Wynne, Mr. West, and Mr. Scrivener, he set 
forward. Smith remained behind with eighty 
or ninety feeble men, to prepare for relading the 
ship. Ascending the James River as far as the 
falls, they passed on thirty or forty miles over 
land, through “ a fair 3 fertile, and well-watered 


JOHN SMITH. 


123 


country.” Two towns of the Monacans were 
discovered on the south side of the river, where 
the people took little notice of them; yet they 
seized one of the petty kings, and took him 
along as a guide on their way. In a little time 
they became wearied, and sickening over the 
adventure, started homeward. They had taken 
with them “ certain refiners,” to seek mineral 
treasures, and after visiting, therefore, what 
they thought gold mines, and gathering some 
shining dirt, they at length reached James¬ 
town, “ half sick, and all complaining, being 
sadly harassed with toil, famine, and discon¬ 
tent.” 

The expedition had ended precisely as Smith 
expected. He well understood, however, that 
the best mode of quieting their complaints, 
was to give them some useful employment. 
Some of the mechanics were set to making 
glass, while others were employed in making 
tar, pitch, and potash. Leaving these under the 
direction of the council at Jamestown, he started 
with thirty others down the river, to teach them 
“ to cut down trees, make clapboards, and lie in 
the woods.” Some of these were gentlemen, 
unaccustomed to such work, and found it, of 
course, hard; but he was determined to make 


124 


JOHN SMITH. 


them independent in a new country, by teach¬ 
ing them how to labor. He led the way in 
the work, and in a little time they were like 
“ old wood-choppers.” But he not only cured 
their habits of idleness. The bad habit of 
swearing prevailed among them at times, and 
this did not please the captain. A remedy for 
this was, therefore, applied. He caused every 
man’s oaths to be noticed during the day, and 
when night came the whole were assembled, 
and for every oath a man had used, a can of 
vater was poured down his sleeve. This was a 
strange punishment, but it seems to have pro¬ 
duced the desired effect. In a short time the 
bad practice was discontinued. Having drilled 
them sufficiently in the woods, he returned with 
them to Jamestown. 

He found that business had been neglected 
again, that provisions were running low, and 
that it was necessary to undertake an expe¬ 
dition in search of corn. With eighteen men 
he at once embarked in the barge, and leaving 
orders that Lieutenant Percy should follow him 
in a boat, went up the Chickahomony river. 
The Indians learning his wants were surly 
and out of humor, and insolently refused to 
trade on any terms. Smith was not to be driven 


JOHN SMITH. 


125 


off in this way. He told them that he had not 
come among them so much for corn, as for the 
purpose of revenging his own captivity, and the 
death of some of his countrymen. Then prompt¬ 
ly landing his men, he prepared for battle. The 
savages instantly fled. Presently some of them 
returned, bringing presents of corn, fish, and fowl, 
sueing earnestly for peace. They stated that 
their corn that year was not abundant, and their 
own wants great; yet they loaded the barge 
with one hundred bushels; and when Lieutenant 
Percy soon after arrived, he received as much 
more. Returning home, they were received with 
great joy at Jamestown, for the supply was much 
needed. Yet, while he was thus laboring abroad 
for the good of the colony, some enemy was al¬ 
ways busy at home trying to injure him. “ Such 
was the malice and envy of some, (as it is writ¬ 
ten,) that they had rather hazard a starving, 
than that Smith’s endeavors should prove so 
much more effectual than theirs.” Newport and 
Ratcliffe had been planning, not only to depose 
him from the presidency, but even to keep him 
from entering the fort, under the pretence that 
he had left the place without their permission. 
Their efforts, however, were so ridiculous and 
wicked, that the people revolted, and they them- 
11 * 


126 


JOHN SMITH. 


selves very narrowly escaped “ a greater mis- 
chief.” 

The delay of the ship too, as on a former oc¬ 
casion, produced trouble. A constant traffick¬ 
ing was all the while going on between the 
sailors and the Indians, in which, of course, the 
former took care of their own private interests, 
rather than those of the colony. Indeed, (it is 
said,) they would sometimes steal articles from the 
public stores, to trade with the Indians for their 
furs and baskets. Certain it is, that of two or 
three hundred axes, hoes, pickaxes, and other 
instruments brought out for the use of the colony, 
twenty only could be found at the end of six or 
seven weeks. Thus these poor vagabonds preyed 
upon the colony, and yet these were the men 
who were soon to return to England to tell 
what stories they pleased of Virginia—to talk 
of the abundance there, and prevent supplies 
from being sent out by the council. It was 
Newport’s business to check all this, yet it was 
not done. Smith was greatly indignant, and 
the ship being nearly ready to sail, he threatened 
to send her home, and detain Newport a year in 
the colony, that he might learn from experi¬ 
ence what their real sufferings were. But 
Newport became alarmed, acknowledged his 


JOHN SMITH. 


127 


fault, and was pardoned. At length, to the great 
joy of the colony, the ship sailed homeward, 
laden with “ specimens of tar, pitch, turpentine, 
potash, clapboards, and wainscot.” On her 
way out, she met at Point Comfort with Mr. 
Scrivener, who had been up the Pamunkey 
river in search of corn. He had with him a 
quantity of pocones , (a red root used in dying,) 
and these were given to Newport, as farther spe¬ 
cimens of the products of the country. 

Among other strange things taken to Eng¬ 
land by this ship, was a letter from Captain 
Smith to the Council at home. It seems that 
the Council in England had strange ideas of the 
New World, and supposed that every adventure 
would return them ample supplies of gold and 
silver. In this thought they had of course been 
disappointed, and therefore had readily listened 
from time to time, to the enemies who murmured 
against the colonial settlements. Under the in¬ 
fluence of this feeling, they had sent by New¬ 
port a letter to Captain Smith, making com¬ 
plaints against the colony in Virginia. The 
principal complaints were, of the hopes that had 
been fed, only to be disappointed ; of the quar¬ 
rels and divisions among the colonists, and a 
foolish project about dividing the country, of 


128 


JOHN SMITH. 


which the late president had written to the Earl 
of Salisbury; and the whole concluded with a 
threat, that “ unless the charge of this voyage, 
amounting to about two thousand pounds, was 
defrayed by the ship’s return, they should be de¬ 
serted, and left to remain there as banished 
men.” It was in reply to this that Smith now 
returned them a hold letter containing a fail 
statement of facts. 

As to their complaints, he denies that he had 
ever fed them with vain hopes, or that he knew 
or had ever heard before, any thing about the 
project for dividing the country. As for quar¬ 
rels among the colonists, they were caused (in 
spite of his efforts at peace) by bad and dis¬ 
orderly men, of whom Ratcliffe and Archer were 
the chief, and that he now sent them home to get 
rid of them. In fact, the people were so pro¬ 
voked against Ratcliffe that it was necessary to 
send him home to save his life, for many of them 
were ready to cut his throat. 

Next he brings his complaints against them; 
that they had listened to idle complaints from 
enemies of the colony, (of whom he suspected 
Newport to be the greatest,) and had not at¬ 
tempted properly to aid them; that they had 
sent out a parcel of idlers or useless manufac- 


JOHN SMITH. 


129 


turers into the settlement, from time to time, in¬ 
stead of sending such men as were needed. He 
begged them, like sensible men, to dismiss all 
thoughts of getting rich immediately through 
the colony, and to send to him carpenters, gar¬ 
deners, fishermen, blacksmiths, and masons. 
Thirty of these (he stated) would be worth more 
in Virginia than all their fine gentlemen. 

He then complains of the last adventure of 
Newport; that they had sent him to the country 
with a foolish project in his head for finding the 
South Sea, and laden him with rich presents for 
Powhatan; that he himself had opposed this 
plan, because he thought it idle, but when the 
Council approved it, he had joined them heart 
and hand; that every facility had been offered 
to Newport for the effort, and he had completely 
failed, as he knew he would; that Powhatan had 
been crowned, and the presents delivered to him, 
from which he expected nothing but trouble for 
the colony. As for the two thousand pounds 
which the voyage had cost, the colony had not 
received the benefit of one hundred; that New¬ 
port and his sailors were only a tax to them, for 
they had to furnish them with supplies homeward. 
These, with many other direct charges, were in 
the letter; and in conclusion, (that they might 


130 


JOHN SMITH. 


see he had not been idle,) he stated that he sent 
them by the ship some stones, which he sup¬ 
posed might contain iron ore, with the places 
marked where they were found, together with his 
map of Chesapeake Bay, and his description of 
the countries he had discovered. 

The ship having departed, he commenced 
again gathering supplies. With Captain Wynne 
and Mr. Scrivener as his companions, he set out 
immediately for the Nandsamond river. It seems 
the Indians on that river had promised to give 
him four hundred baskets of corn. This they 
were now unwilling to do, and even refused to 
trade with him in any way. They tried to ex¬ 
cuse themselves, by saying, that “ their com 
was almost all spent,” and that Powhatan had 
commanded them not to part with what they 
had, nor to allow the English to enter the river. 
Smith at once resolved to use force. He com¬ 
manded his party to discharge the muskets, and 
the Indians fled without shooting an arrow. 
Then marching up to their houses, they set fire 
to the first they came to. The savages, see¬ 
ing this, came to terms. They proposed to 
give them half the corn they had, and to plant 
corn purposely for them the next year, if they 
would spare their houses. Before night the boats 


JOHN SMITH. 


131 


were loaded, and ere long they were again in 
Jamestown with provisions. They reached home 
in time to attend the first wedding in Virginia, 
when John Laydon was married to Anne Burras. 

In a little time, he was off again in company 
with Captain Waldo, with two barges in Chesa¬ 
peake Bay. Corn was again his object, but the 
Indians all fled at the sight of him. At length 
he found friends upon the Appamatox river, 
among that tribe of Indians. They had but lib- 
tie corn, yet they divided it cheerfully with him, 
and in return he gave them “ copper, and such 
other toys as fully satisfied them.” 

All this, however, was but a present supply, 
and some of the men were soon out upon like 
excursions ; sometimes with and often without 
success. They had some hardships, which were 
accounted light, because they had before them a 
heavier one in the fear of starvation. The sea¬ 
son was a severe one, but in their long excur¬ 
sions they “ camped out cheerfully at night.” 
The ground was covered with snow, yet they 
would dig it away, make a fire upon the earth 
to warm it, clear away the ashes, and then 
spread their mats for sleeping. When the ground 
became cold again, they would at once, without 
a murmur, prepare another spot in the same 


132 


JOHN SMITH. 


way. It is said that these hardy adventurers 
were the healthiest men in the colony. 

To make an end of this perpetual- anxiety 
about food, Smith resolved upon the bold ex¬ 
periment of seizing Powhatan and all his stores. 
He called together some members of the council, 
and confidentially told them of his intention. 
Waldo was greatly in favor of the attempt, 
but Wynne and Scrivener warmly opposed it. 
Nevertheless, his mind was bent upon it. It 
seems that Powhatan had some stratagem at 
work in his own mind at this time ; for now, 
strangely enough, he sent inviting Smith to 
come and see him, and promising to load his 
barge with corn upon certain conditions. These 
were, that “ he would send some workmen to 
build him a house, and would give him a grind¬ 
stone, fifty swords, some muskets, a cock and a 
hen, with much copper and beads.’’ Instantly 
taking advantage of this message, Smith sent off 
two Englishmen and four Germans, to build his 
house. Unfortunately, however, as it turned out 
for his enterprise, he gave these men certain in¬ 
structions as to their behavior, and told them of 
his whole plan. He at once commenced mak¬ 
ing preparations to follow them. As the enter¬ 
prise was perilous, he urged no man to go, but 


JOHN SMITH. 


133 


left all to volunteer for themselves, if they pleas¬ 
ed. His crew, gathered in this way, consisted 
of forty-six persons, besides Captain Waldo. 
Leaving Mr. Scrivener to manage during his 
absence, and taking with him the necessary pro¬ 
visions for a few days, on the twenty-ninth of 
December he departed with the bark and two 
barges. 

The first night they stopped at the Indian vil¬ 
lage, Warraskoyack, not far from Jamestowp. 
Here they were treated with great kindness by 
the chief of the settlement, and received ad¬ 
ditions to their supplies. Upon learning that 
Smith was going on a visit to Powhatan, he 
tried to dissuade him from it; finding him re¬ 
solute in his intention, he at last said to him, 
“ Captain Smith, you shall find Powhatan to use 
you kindly, but trust him not; and be sure he 
have no opportunity to seize on your arms, for 
he has sent for you only to cut your throats.” 
Thanking him for his advice, Smith asked to be 
furnished with a guide to the Chawonocks, a na¬ 
tion dwelling between the Nottaway and Me- 
hernn rivers, in Carolina, as he desired to make 
a friend of the king of that people. The guide 
was found, and one of the company (Michael 
Sicklemore, an honest and faithful man) was 
12 


134 


JOHN SMITH. 


sent with him, bearing presents, and instructions 
to search for silk-grass, and some one of the 
lost colony of Sir Walter Raleigh. 

The next night they lodged at Kecoughtan. 
Here they were detained six or seven days by 
the wind and rain. During this time they were 
entertained merrily by the natives, and feasted 
with them upon their oysters, fish, and wild-fowl. 
At length, after several accidents, they arrived 
on the twelfth of January at Werowocomoco 
They found the river frozen nearly half a mile 
from the shore ; but Smith, breaking the ice, ran 
one of his barges up as far as he could, until he 
was “ left by the ebb upon the oozy shoals.” Di¬ 
recting two men to remain with the barge, and 
when she should float to put her aboard the 
bark, cold as it was, he leaped into the water. 
His men followed his example, and through the 
mud and ice they waded to the shore. They 
quartered in the first cabin which they found, 
and at once sent to Powhatan for provisions. 
He immediately supplied them with “ plenty of 
bread, turkeys, and venison,” and they spent the 
night in tolerable comfort. 

The day following, Powhatan feasted them 
m fine style, and after this asked them “ when 
they were going away.” Neither he nor his 


JOHN SMITH. 


135 


people (he said) had expected them, and if 
it was corn they were in search of, they had 
none to spare. Smith replied, that this was very 
strange, and instantly produced the messengers 
who had brought to him Powhatan’s invitation 
and offer. The wily chief, thus confronted, 
endeavored to turn off his falsehood with a 
laugh, and asked the Captain to “ shew him his 
commodities.” After looking at many things, 
he seemed to value nothing but the guns and 
swords. As for the copper which was shewn to 
him, he told Smith plainly that he “ valued a 
basket of corn higher than a basket of copper.” 
The Captain was of course indignant at such 
behavior, and spoke to the chief quite as plain¬ 
ly in return. He told him that he might have 
procured provisions, in many places, but relying 
on his promises, had neglected to do so; and that 
at his request he had at once sent men to build 
his houses, while his own were unfinished. He 
then charged him boldly with keeping back his 
people’s corn and forbidding them to trade, 
“ thinking by consuming time to consume them 
that as for swords and guns, he had none to 
spare, and that he must be aware that those he 
had could keep him from starving. Yet, he de¬ 
clared, he would neither rob nor wrong him, nor 


136 


JOHN SMITH. 


in any way break the friendship between them 
unless he was compelled to do so by unkind 
treatment. The king listened attentively to all 
he said, and promised that he and his people 
should spare him all the corn they could part with, 
and that he should receive it in two days. “ But 
I have some doubt (said he) about the reason of 
your coming hither. I am informed from many 
hands, that you come, not to trade, but to invade 
my people, and to possess my country. This 
makes me less ready to relieve you, and frightens 
my people from bringing in their corn. And 
therefore, to ease them of that fear, leave your 
arms aboard, since they are needless here, where 
we are all friends, and for ever Powhatans.” 

Smith was not aware that Powhatan knew 
his intentions, nor did he, until six months after¬ 
wards, learn that at that very instant the chief 
understood his whole design. The truth was, 
the Germans had betrayed him. These men, 
perceiving the abundance of Powhatan, had con¬ 
cluded that it was better to have the friendship 
of such a chief, than to hang on to a half starv¬ 
ing colony, and had therefore opened the whole 
design of the English. This baseness was not 
at all suspected, for Smith had great confidence 
in these Germans, and had especially charged 


JOHN SMITH. 


137 


one of them, before leaving Jamestown, to act 
as a spy upon Powhatan. 

After this, while waiting for the people to 
come in, he managed to purchase of the chief 
about eighty bushels of corn, with an old copper 
kettle. Smith declared that the kettle was 
worth far more, but, considering the scarcity, 
agreed to part with it, provided that Powhatan 
would promise to give him as much more corn 
the next year. This promise he readily gave, 
and the trade was made. 

But Powhatan still continued to urge him to 
lay aside his arms. “ Captain Smith, (said he,) 
I am a very old man, having seen the death of 
three of the generations of my people. None of 
these is now living except myself, and I know 
the difference between peace and war better 
than any in my country. But now I am old, 
and ere long must die, and my brethren, Opit- 
chapan, Opechancanough, and Kekataugh; and 
my two sisters, and their daughters, must suc¬ 
ceed me. I wish their experience no less than 
mine, and your love to them no less than mine 
to you. But the rumor that has reached us, 
that you are come to destroy my country, has 
frightened my people, and they dare not visit 
you. What will it profit you to take by force 
12 * 


138 


JOHN SMITH. 


what you may quickly have by love, or to de¬ 
stroy them that provide you food ? What can 
you get by war, when we can hide our pro¬ 
visions and fly to the w r oods? whereby you 
must famish by wronging us your friends. And 
why are you so suspicious of our loves ? seeing 
that we are unarmed, and ready to feed you with 
that you cannot get but by our labors. Do 
you think I am so simple as not to know it is 
better to eat good meat, lie well, and sleep 
quietly with my women and children, laugh and 
be merry with you, have copper, hatchets, or 
what I want, being your friend, than to be forced 
as your enemy to fly from all; to lie cold in the 
woods, to feed upon acorns, roots, and such trash, 
and be so hunted by you, that I can neither rest, 
eat, nor sleep, but my tired men must watch, 
and, if a twig but break, every one cries out, 
‘ There comes Captain Smiththen I must fly 
I know not whither, and thus with miserable 
fear end my miserable life. Be assured then, of 
our loves. Every year we can supply you w r ith 
corn, and now too we are ready to give it, if 
you would only come into our country in a peace¬ 
ful way. We are not your enemies, therefore 
lay aside your arms.” 

To this speech Captain Smith answered in the 


JOHN SMITH. 


139 


following words: “ Since you will not rightly 
understand our words, we must strive to make 
you know our thoughts by our deeds. The vow 
I made you of my love, both myself and my 
men have kept; as for your promise, I find it 
every day violated by some of your subjects. 
Yet we have never been ungrateful for your 
kindness, and for your sake only have we curbed 
our revenge; else they had known as well the 
cruelty w r e use to our enemies, as our true love 
and courtesy to our friends. You must under¬ 
stand, as well by the adventures we have un¬ 
dertaken, as by the advantage we have by our 
arms, that had we intended you any injury, we 
could long since have effected it. Your people 
coming to Jamestown bring their bows and ar¬ 
rows, and no complaint is made. It is our cus¬ 
tom to wear our arms as our apparel. As for 
the danger of our enemies, in such wars consist 
our chiefest pleasure; and for your riches, we 
have no use. As to your flying to the woods 
and hiding your provisions, that would not hurt 
us, for we have a way of finding hidden things 
which you do not understand.” 

They soon now began to trade; but Powhatan 
finding that he could not have his own way—• 
that Smith was still obstinate, and would not al- 


140 


JOHN SMITH. 


low his men to put away their arms, broke out 
again. “ Captain Smith, I never used any chief 
so kindly as yourself; yet, from you, I receive 
the least kindness of any. Captain* Newport 
gave me swords, copper, clothes, or whatever 
else I desired, ever accepting what I offered 
him, and would send away his guns when re¬ 
quested. No one refuses to lie at my feet, or to 
do what I demand, but you only. Of you I can 
have nothing, but what you value not, and yet 
you have whatever you please. Captain New¬ 
port you call father, and so you call me; but I 
can see, in spite of us both, you will do what you 
will, and we must both study to humor and 
please you. If you intend so friendly as you say, 
send away your arms.” 

Smith now perceived that Powhatan was only 
trifling, that he might gain time to get him in 
his possession. He therefore procured some In¬ 
dians to break the ice, that his boat might come 
in to take away his corn, and at the same time 
gave secret orders for more men to come ashore 
to surprise the king. In the mean time, to allay 
all suspicion, he entertained the chief with much 
good humored talk, promising the next day to 
lay aside his arms, and to shew, by trusting in 
his word, that he loved him, and confided in him 


JOHN SMITH. 


141 


as a father. But hearing that they were break¬ 
ing the ice, Powhatan became alarmed, and 
hurried away with his women, children, and 
luggage. Yet, to avoid suspicion, he left two 
or three of his women talking with the Captain, 
while he secretly ran off, and in a little time his 
warriors as secretly surrounded the house where 
they were talking. As soon as Smith discovered 
this, he sallied out with his pistol, sword, and 
shield. “ At his first shot, those next him tum¬ 
bled one over another,' and the rest fled nimbly 
off, some one way, some another.” Thus, with¬ 
out any injury, he fought his way to the main 
body of his men. 

Finding that he had escaped in spite of their 
efforts, an attempt was now made on the part 
of the savages to excuse this strange treatment. 
An old warrior was sent to him by Powhatan, 
bearing a large bracelet and chain of pearl, 
who delivered to him the following message: 
“ Captain Smith, our king has fled for fear of 
your guns. Knowing, when the ice was open, 
there would come more men ashore, he sent the 
warriors, whom you assaulted, to guard your corn 
from being stolen, which thing might happen 
without your knowledge. Some of our men 
have been hurt by your mistake, yet Powhatan 


142 


JOHN SMITH. 


is still your friend, and wid for ever continue so. 
He now desires that (since the ice is open) you will 
send away your corn; and if you expect his 
company, that you will also send away your 
guns, which so frighten his people, that they 
are afraid to bring in their corn as he promised 
they should.” 

Baskets were now cheerfully provided for the 
English to carry the corn to the boat. The savages 
kindly offered to guard their arms while they 
were thus employed, but this of course was not 
allowed. Smith had other business for them. 
They were a cowardly set, easily frightened “ at 
the sight of the English cocking their matches,” 
and in a little time were all at work, with the 
baskets on their shoulders, cheerfully and rapidly 
loading the boats themselves. This being finish¬ 
ed, Smith found that he must wait till late in the 
evening for the next tide, before his boat could 
move off, and in the mean time he, with Jiis men, 
repaired to their old quarters at the cabin. 

Powhatan was still eager to have him in his 
possession; he thought, if he could seize him, the 
colony was at once destroyed, and was prepar¬ 
ing that night to surprise and take him. The 
treacherous Germans also desired it, and were 
ready to assist him in any plot. The plan was 


JOHN SMITH. 


143 


to send at night some strong men with the pre¬ 
sent of a rich supper from the chief to Smith; 
while he was eating, these men were to seize 
him. If they failed in doing this, Powhatan, 
with his forces, was to come down and take 
him. The night proved dark and dismal, as if 
to aid this stratagem. But the providence of 
God had raised for Smith a friend, who would 
not willingly see him destroyed. The friend¬ 
ship of Pocahontas again served him. In the midst 
of the darkness she came alone through the 
woods, and told Smith of the whole plan. “ Good 
cheer (she said) would be sent to them soon; 
but that Powhatan, with all the forces he could 
raise, would soon come to kill them all, if those 
who brought the victuals eould not effect it with 
their own arms while they were at supper.” As 
they valued their lives, therefore, she “ begged* 
them to be gone.” Grateful for her noble-hearted 
generosity, Smith offered her many presents, but 
she refused them all. With tears running down 
her cheeks, she declared that she could not re¬ 
ceive them; that she dared not be seen with 
them, for if her father should in any way dis¬ 
cover that she had opened his plot, he would in¬ 
stantly kill her—“ and so she ran away by her¬ 
self as she came.” 


144 


JOHN SMITH. 


Within less than an hour, ten strong men 
came down, bringing large platters of venison 
and other victuals. Spreading them before Smith, 
they invited him and his companions to sit down 
and eat; begging them at the same time to put 
out their matches, the smoke of which (they said) 
made them sick. But Smith made them taste 
of every dish, to see if it was poisoned, and then 
sent some of them back to Powhatan, telling 
him “ to make haste, for he was ready for his 
coming.” Soon after more messengers came 
down to learn the new T s, and not long after others; 
but the English kept up a steady watch through 
the night, and Powhatan’s plan was defeated. 
Not one of his men dared strike a blow. 

At high water the boat departed, leaving the 
vagabond Germans still behind, (whose treachery 
was not yet suspected,) to complete the house of 
the crafty chief. 


CHAPTER VII. 


Powhatan by stratagem obtains arms at James¬ 
town—Smith visits Opechancanough — Treach¬ 
ery of the chief—Fearless behavior of Smith — 
Accident at Jamestown—Returns home — Re¬ 
bukes the colonists for idleness , and sets them 
to work—Treachery of four Germans—Smith 
attempts to seize one of them—Is attacked by 
the chief of the Pashiphays—After a hard 
struggle captures the chief and puts him in 
chains—The chief escapes—Meets the Paship¬ 
hays—Speech of Okaning—Incidents at James¬ 
town—Industry of the colonists—Want of 
food—Kindness of Powhatan—Mutinous con¬ 
duct of some of the colonists—Smith checks it 
—Plot to destroy Jamestown—Is discovered 
and stopped—Arrival of Captain Argali. 

They had scarcely set sail when Powhatan 
despatched two of the Germans to Jamestown. 
These played their parts well for him. They 
pretended to Captain Wynne that all things 
13 


146 


JOHN SMITH. 


were well, but that Captain Smith had need for 
more arms, and therefore desired he would send 
them, together with some spare tools and changes 
of clothing. As their treachery was not sus¬ 
pected, the articles were of course delivered to 
them. Then they set to work privately to beat 
up recruits among the colonists, and by talking 
of the greatness of Powhatan, and the poor pros¬ 
pects of the colony, managed to draw off some 
six or seven. These, however, were worthless 
men, and no loss to the colony. Yet they were 
of great service to Powhatan, for being expert 
thieves, they managed to steal for him fifty 
swords, eight muskets, eight pikes, and a quan¬ 
tity of powder and shot. Indians were always 
lurking around the settlement, and the articles 
being delivered to them, were readily carried 
off. At the same time Powhatan kept one of 
the Germans (who was a blacksmith) very busy 
at Werowocomoco, working at his trade. Three 
hundred tomahawks were made by him, and 
these, together with the weapons that had 
been stolen, gave to the king quite a supply of 
arms. 

In the mean time Captain Smith had gone with 
his party to Pamunkey, the home of Opechanca- 
nough. He was received kindly by this chief, 


JOHN SMITH. 


147 


and entertained with hospitality. A clay was 
soon set apart for their trading. At the ap¬ 
pointed time, Smith, with fifteen others, went up 
to the house of Opechancanough, in the village, 
which was a quarter of a mile from the river. 
They found here “ nothing but a lame man and 
a boyall the houses having been stripped of 
every thing and deserted. Presently the chief 
came, and after him several of his people, laden 
principally with bows and arrows. They had 
with them some articles of traffic, but these 
were so trifling, and offered at such high prices, 
that Smith at once told Opechancanough, that 
the professions of his tongue were proved by 
his actions to be mere deceit. “ Last year 
(said he) you kindly freighted my vessel, but 
have now treacherously invited me here to 
famish and destroy me. You are not ignorant 
of my wants, neither am I ignorant of your 
plenty, of which, by some means, I will have a 
part. You should remember, that it is proper for 
kings, above all others, to keep their promises. 
I offer you all my commodities—you may take 
your choice—the rest I will divide fairly among 
your people.” Opechancanough seemed kindly 
to accept his offer, and, to cover his designs, at 
once sold Smith all that he then had at his own 


148 


JOHN SMITH. 


prices, and promised to meet him the next day 
with more people and more articles 

At the appointed time Smith, with the same fif¬ 
teen men, marched up to the king’s house, where 
he found four or five Indians just arrived, each 
with a large basket. Soon after the king came in, 
and began, with apparent cheerfulness, to tell 
what great trouble he had taken to keep his 
promise. This talk was suddenly cut short, 
when Mr. Russel, one of the party, came run¬ 
ning in, telling Smith that the house was 
surrounded by seven hundred armed savages. 
Some of his men were alarmed and began to 
look pale, but Smith was undaunted. Rally¬ 
ing them, he addressed them in the following 
words: 

“ Worthy countrymen, I feel far less concern 
at the number and danger of the enemy, than at 
the malicious representations which the Council 
and their open mouthed minions will make in 
England, about my breaking the peace. I, 
alone, was once assaulted by three hundred sav¬ 
ages, and, had it not been for an accident, would 
have made my way good among them all. We 
are now sixteen, and the enemy but seven hun¬ 
dred at the most. I desire, therefore, that you 
will fight like men, and not die like sheep. If 


JOHN SMITH. 


149 


• 

you dare follow my example, and do as I do, I 
doubt not, by God’s assistance, to extricate you 
out of the present difficulty and danger.” 

The men were instantly roused and ready to 
brave any danger. They all vowed “ to do 
whatever he attempted or die.” Then turning 
to the chief, he said, “ I see, Opechancanough, 
your plot to murder me, but I am not afraid. As 
yet your men and mine have done no harm, but 
by our direction. Let us decide this matter by 
single combat. Take, therefore, your arms— 
you see mine—my body shall be as naked as 
yours—you may choose your weapons. The 
isle in your river is a fit place for the fight, if 
you please. Let your men bring baskets of 
corn. I will stake their value in copper, and 
the conqueror shall be lord and master of all the 
men and all the commodities.” 

This bold challenge was declined by Opechan¬ 
canough. He had no idea of losing the ad¬ 
vantage that he had. Still pretending friend¬ 
ship, he urged Smith to go with him outside of 
the door, and there receive a present which his 
people had brought for him. This was done 
only to draw him out, where two hundred men 
stood, with their arrows resting in their bows, 
ready to despatch him. Smith, perceiving the 
13 * 


150 


JOHN SMITH. 


treachery, instantly seized the king by his scalp- 
lock, and presenting his pistol, ready cocked, to 
his breast, dragged “ him trembling and half 
dead with fear,” into the midst of his people. 
Startled that any one should be bold enough to 
use their king in this manner, the savages at 
once threw down their bows and arrows, and 
Opechancanough was glad to save himself by de¬ 
livering all his armor in token of submission. 
Still holding the trembling chief by the hair, 
Smith thus addressed his people : “ I see ye, 
Pamunkeys, the great desire you have to kill 
me, and that my long suffering hath emboldened 
you to this insolence. The reason I have for¬ 
borne to punish you, is the promise I made you, 
(before the God I serve,) that I would be your 
friend, till you gave me just cause to be your 
enemy. If I keep this vow, my God will keep 
me—you cannot hurt me; but if I break it, he 
will destroy me. But if you shoot one arrow, to 
shed one drop of blood of any of my men, or steal 
the least of these beads, or this copper, I will take 
such revenge (if I once begin) that you shall not 
hear the last of me while there is a Pamunkey 
alive. I am not now half drowned in the mire, as 
when you took me prisoner. If I be the mark you 
aim at, here I stand—shoot he that dares. You 


JOHN SMITH. 


151 


promised to load my bark with corn; and 
so you shall, or I will load her with your dead 
carcasses. Yet, if as friends you will trade, I 
once more promise that I will not trouble you, 
unless you give me good cause ; and your king 
shall be free and be my friend, for I am not 
come to hurt him or any of you.” 

This speech made a wonderful impression. 
The Indians were suddenly disposed to be great 
friends. Men, women, and even children brought 
to him their articles of traffic, and “ for three 
hours so thronged around him and wearied him,” 
that at last he was forced, in self-defence, to re¬ 
tire into the house, that he might rest, leaving 
others to trade and receive their presents. He 
soon now fell asleep. While sleeping, some 
fifty Indians, armed with clubs and swords, man¬ 
aged to get into the house, evidently with the 
design of murdering him. Roused by the noise, 
he sprang up, seized his sword and target, and 
soon drove them out faster than they came in. 
Opechanoanough, with some of the old warriors, 
endeavored, in a long talk, to excuse this con¬ 
duct. “ The rest of the day was spent with 
much kindness, the Indians renewing their pre¬ 
sents, and feasting the English with their best 
provisions.” 


152 


JOHN SMITH. 


While these things were going on, a sad ac¬ 
cident had happened at the fort, of which Smith 
now heard. It seems that Mr. Scrivener had 
received letters from England by the last ship, 
which gave him a great idea of his own import¬ 
ance ; and though Smith loved him as a brother, 
Scrivener had learned to dislike him. These 
letters (it is said) “made him conceited and 
headstrong.” On a cold and boisterous day, he 
determined to visit Hog Island, not far from 
Jamestown, and in spite of all remonstrance, 
persuaded Captain Waldo and nine others to 
accompany him in the skiff. She was so 
overloaded that she could scarcely have lived 
in calm weather; as it was, she sunk, and all 
on board were drowned. It was difficult to 
find any one to carry the sorrowful news to 
the President, until at last Mr. Richard Wiffin 
undertook to do it. He encountered many 
difficulties and dangers as he passed toward 
Werowocomoco, where he expected to find 
him. Here his danger was greater, for he 
found the people engaged in preparation for 
war, and escaped being seized only by the kind¬ 
ness of Pocahontas. She managed to hide him, 
at the<same time “sending those who were in 
search of him a contrary way.” After three 


JOHN SMITH. 


153 


day’s travel he now reached Smith at Pamun- 
key, and gave him the melancholy tidings. He 
was very sad, but prudently took from Wiffin a 
promise that he would not tell his men. Hid¬ 
ing his grief as well as he could through the 
day, when night came he set Opechancanough 
at liberty, as he had promised, and went with 
his men on board the bark. 

Smith’s heart was still bent on seizing Pow¬ 
hatan, and he watched for his opportunity as he 
now returned down the river. It seems that 
Powhatan was equally anxious to secure him, 
and had threatened some of his men with death, 
if they did not kill him. Both parties conse¬ 
quently being on the look out, no harm was done 
on either side. The Indians (it is said) so 
dreaded Captain Smith that they were afraid to 
attack him, even at the command of Powhatan, 
and were loading him with presents if he seemed 
the least angry. Some of them, however, made 
an effort to despatch him in a qiliet way by 
poisoning him. Fortunately he was only made 
sick, and threw the poison from his stomach. 
In a little time he caught Wecuttanow, (the In¬ 
dian who had brought him the poisoned food as 
a present,) and whipped him severely. 

On the way between Werowocomoco and 


154 


JOHN SMITH. 


Jamestown they met four or five of the colonists, 
who were in league wuth the treacherous Ger¬ 
mans, then on their way to Powhatan. The traitors, 
to avoid suspicion, at once agreed to return with 
them to the fort. They were soon quietly 
moored at Jamestown, where, to the great joy 
of the colony, they delivered over to the keeper of 
the public stores two hundred pounds of deer’s 
suet, and four hundred and seventy-nine bushels 
of corn. They had gained so much by their 
perilous adventures. 

As usual, Smith’s presence was needed at James¬ 
town. The provisions there had been much in¬ 
jured by the rain, rats, and worms, and many of 
their tools had been stolen and carried off by the 
Indians. These things, together with the loss 
of Scrivener and his party, had much discouraged 
the people. The supplies which Smith had 
brought home, together with the damaged pro¬ 
lusions, (which were not to be thrown away,) 
were found ample to sustain them for one year 
All fears of starving, therefore, for the present 
being dismissed, he at once commenced vigor¬ 
ously attending to other matters. 

As he looked upon idleness as one great cause 
of their trouble, he now called them all before 
him, and told them, “ that their late experience 


JOHN SMITH. 


155 


and misery were sufficient to persuade every one 
to mend his ways; that they must not think 
that either his pains or the purses of the adven¬ 
turers at home would for ever maintain them in 
sloth and idleness; that he knew that many de¬ 
served more honor and a better reward than was 
yet to be had, but that far the greatest part of 
them must be more industrious or starve; that it 
was not reasonable that the labors of thirty or forty 
honest and industrious men should be consumed, 
to maintain one hundred and fifty loiterers; and 
that, therefore, every one that would not work 
should not eat; that they had often been screen¬ 
ed and protected in their disobedience to his just 
and necessary commands by the authority of the 
council, but that now all being either dead or 
gone, except Captain Wynne and himself, that 
whole power rested, in effect, solely in him. He 
therefore advised them not to feed themselves up 
with the vain presumption that his authority was 
but a shadow, and that his life must answer for 
theirs; for the letters patent and other powers 
would prove the contrary, and should every 
week be read to them; and every one that of¬ 
fended might assuredly expect his due punish¬ 
ment.” 

He then divided them all into companies. 


156 


JOHN SMITH. 


Six hours of each day were to be spent in labor, 
the rest in pastime and amusement. To encour¬ 
age them the more, he kept a book, in which he 
registered every man’s daily conduct, that he 
might animate the good, and spur on the rest by 
shame. Most of them, after this, became very 
industrious. 

They still, however, missed arms and tools 
from time to time, and at length discovered that 
they were continually stolen by some of the 
friends of the Germans, and carried to Pow¬ 
hatan. You will remember that Smith and his 
party had brought back, on their return, some 
men, then on their way to Werowocomoco. 
These had been expected by the Germans there, 
and wondering what had become of them, one 
of the Germans (by the advice of Powhatan) had 
disguised himself as an Indian, and come down 
as far as the glass-house, to learn, if possible, 
what had delayed them. This glass-house was 
about a mile from Jamestown, and was the 
common place of meeting for these villains. 
Smith, hearing of this, started with twenty 
chosen men to arrest him, while some forty In¬ 
dians, in some way learning that he was com¬ 
ing, lay in ambush to seize, him. Arriving at 
the glass-house, he found that the German had 


JOHN SMITH. 


157 


escaped, and sent his men after him to take nim 
before he should reach Powhatan. In the mean 
time, armed only with his sword, he started alone 
toward Jamestown. In his way he met the 
chief of the Pashiphays, a man of great size and 
strength. At first he endeavored to draw the 
captain into the ambush, but failing in that, 
tried to shoot him. Seeing this, Smith instantly 
closed in and grappled with him. It was im¬ 
possible for either of them to use weapons. It 
was a bare contest of strength, and the Indian 
being the strongest, dragged him into the river, 
hoping to drown him. They had now a fierce 
struggle in the water, until at last Smith got 
hold of the savage’s throat, and almost strangled 
him. Then “ disengaging himself, he drew his 
sword,” and would have killed him, but the poor 
chief begged piteously for his life, and he con¬ 
sented to spare him. He led him, however, as 
a prisoner to Jamestown, and put him in chains. 

In the mean time his men had taken the Ger¬ 
man, and brought him in also as a prisoner, and 
his treachery was at once made known by the 
confession of the captive chief. Upon this, 
Smith sent a message to Powhatan, offering im¬ 
mediately to release the chief, if he would sur¬ 
render the treacherous Germans. But this he 
14 


158 


JOHN SMITH. 


was as unwilling to do, as the Germans were tu 
come to Jamestown. While this was going on, 
the chief of the Pashiphays managed to make 
his escape. Efforts were made to recapture 
him, but to no purpose. Captain Wynne and 
Lieutenant Percy, however, to punish him and 
his tribe for his insolence, marched with a body 
of fifty men into their country, slew many of the 
people, burnt their houses, and took their canoes 
and fishing weirs. Returning to Jamestown, they 
set up these weirs for their own benefit. 

Not long after this, as Smith was passing on 
his way to the Chickahominy River, he was 
assaulted by the Pashiphays; but as soon as 
they knew him, they threw down their bows 
and arrows, and sued for peace. One of 
them (a young fellow named Okaning) came 
forward and thus addressed him :—“ Captain 
Smith, the chief, my master, is here among us. 
He attacked you, mistaking you for Captain 
Wynne, who has pursued us in war and injured 
us. If he has offended you by escaping from 
prison, I beg you will consider that the fish swim, 
the fowls fly, and the very beasts strive to escape 
the snare and live; then blame not him, being 
a man. Remember what pains he took to save 
your life, when you were a prisoner. If he has 


JOHN SMITH. 


159 


injured you since, you have been amply revenged, 
to our great loss. We know that you are de¬ 
termined to destroy us, but we are here to entreat 
your friendship, and beg that we may enjoy our 
houses and plant our fields. You shall share the 
fruits; but if you drive us off, you will be the 
worse for our absence. Though it may cost us 
more labor, we can plant anywhere; but we 
know you cannot live unless you have our har¬ 
vests to supply your wants. If you promise us 
peace we will believe you: if you proceed in 
revenge, we will quit the country.” Smith at 
once promised peace if they would do no farther 
injury, and bring in provisions to the fort. To 
this they gladly agreed, and then parted good 
friends. This friendship continued (it is said) 
till Smith left the country. 

Upon his return to Jamestown, an incident 
occurred, which served to make him a still greater 
man among the Indians. A pistol, it seems, had 
been stolen by one of the Chickahominy tribe, 
and the thief had escaped, while his two bro¬ 
thers, who were known to be his companions, 
were seized. Retaining one as a hostage, 
Smith sent the other in search of the pistol, 
telling him if he did not return with it in 
twelve hours, his brother should be hanged. 


160 


JOHN SMITH. 


As the weather was cold, a charcoal fire was 
made in the dungeon where the prisoner was 
confined. The gas from the coal caused him to 
faint away, and when his brother in a little time 
returned with the pistol, he was in great agony, 
supposing him to be dead. To comfort him, 
Captain Smith told him, that if he would steal 
no more, he would recover his brother. By the 
use of brandy and vinegar, he soon began to 
shew signs of life: but then he seemed crazy, 
and this distressed his brother even more than 
his death. The captain agreed to cure him of 
this also. He knew that his delirium was caused 
only by the liquor he had swallowed: and di¬ 
recting that he should not be disturbed, a sound 
sleep soon brought him to his senses. After 
this, Smith gave presents to each of them, and 
they returned homeward, telling everywhere, by 
the way, that “ Captain Smith could bring the 
dead to life,” and his fame rang the louder 
throughout all that region. 

About the same time, another Indian at Wero- 
wocomoco had managed to get a large bag of 
gunpowder, and the back-piece of a suit of ar¬ 
mor. He had sometimes seen the soldiers at 
Jamestown drying their powder over the fire, 
and he now undertook to do the same thing by 


JOHN SMITH. 


161 


spreading it out upon this piece of armor. His 
companions stood anxiously peeping over him to 
see his skill, when suddenly the powder explod¬ 
ed, killed three upon the spot, and injuied 
several others. The Indians learned now more 
than ever to fear “ the white men’s gunpow¬ 
der.” “ These, with some other accidents, so 
frightened and amazed Powhatan and his people, 
that they flocked from all parts, and with pre¬ 
sents desired peace—returning many stolen 
things, which had never been demanded or 
thought of by the English. And ever after, 
during the remainder of Captain Smith’s admin¬ 
istration, both Powhatan and his people would 
send back to Jamestown such as had been taken 
stealing, to receive their punishment; and the 
whole country became as absolutely free and 
safe to the English as to themselves.”* 

Now the colonists pursued their business with 
industry and success. They made quantities of 
tar, pitch, and potash, succeeded in making a 
fair sample of glass, dug a well of excellent 
water in the fort, which, till then, was wanting, 
built about twenty houses, put a new roof on 
the church, provided nets and weirs for fishing, 


Stith’s History of Virginia, page 97. 

14 * 


162 


JOHN SMITH. 


and to stop the disorders of the thieves and In¬ 
dians, erected a block house on the “ neck of the 
island.” Here the trade of the Indians was to 
be received, and soldiers were stationed, so that 
no man (either Indian or colonist) should pass 
and repass without an order from the president. 
“ Thirty or forty acres of ground were broken up 
and planted.” Another block house was built 
upon Hog Island, and a garrison stationed there 
to give prompt notice of the arrival of any ships. 
For their exercise, at leisure times, “ they made 
clapboard and wainscot.” In the midst of all 
this industry and good order, Captain Wynne 
died. He was the only remaining member of 
the council, and now the whole government de¬ 
volved upon Captain Smith. 

This happy state of things was soon interrupt¬ 
ed again by a general fear of starvation. Upon 
an examination of their supplies, they found half 
their corn rotten, and the rest badly damaged 
by the rats. All ordinary work was stopped, 
and the people employed themselves diligent¬ 
ly to procure provisions. The Indians were 
very kind, bringing in from day to day, squir¬ 
rels, turkeys, and deer, and Powhatan even di¬ 
vided his stock of corn with them. Notwith¬ 
standing this friendship, Smith found it necessary 


JOHN SMITH. 


163 


to send sixty of his men down the river to live 
upon oysters. Twenty were sent to the falls 
with Mr. West, and as many more to Point 
Comfort with Lieutenant Percy, that they might 
catch fish. Many were billeted among the In¬ 
dians, who proved in every way friendly. Quan¬ 
tities of sturgeon were taken, which “ being dried 
and pounded, and then mingled with sorrel and 
wholesome herbs,” made good food. Some 
gathered (we are told) as much Tuckahoe root 
in a day as would make them bread for a week. 

Notwithstanding their pinching wants, some 
of the men (about 150) were worthless vaga¬ 
bonds, unwilling to make any effort whatever 
These fellows tormented Smith continually, beg¬ 
ging him that he would sell their tools, iron, 
swords, guns, and even their houses and ordnance 
to the savages, for such food as they -would give. 
They went farther than this—even demanding 
clamorously that he would desert the country. 
This was more than the captain could endure. 
Seizing one of the worst of these lazy grumblers, 
he caused him to be severely punished, and then 
spoke to the rest as follows: “ Fellow soldiers, 

I little thought any so false as to report, or so 
many so simple as to be persuaded, that I either 
intend to starve you, or that Powhatan at this 


i64 


JOHN SMITH. 


time hath corn for himself, much less for you, or 
that I would not have it if I knew w T here it were 
to be had. Neither did I think any so malicious 
as I now see many are; yet it shall not provoke 
me even from doing my best for the very worst 
among you. But dream no longer of any help 
from Powhatan : nor that I will any longer for* 
bear to force the idle to work, and punish them 
if they complain. If I find any one of you try¬ 
ing to escape to Newfoundland in the pinnace, I 
will certainly hang him at the gallows. You 
cannot deny but that many a time I have saved 
your lives at the hazard of my own; when (it 
your counsels had prevailed) you would all have 
starved. I protest by the God that made me, 
that since necessity will not force you to gather 
the fruits of the earth for yourselves—you shall 
not only gather for yourselves, but for those alsc 
that are sick. You know I have fared with the 
worst of you, and that my extra allowance has 
always been divided amongst the sick. The sick 
shall not starve, but share all our labors. He 
that does not gather every day as much as I do, 
the next day shall be put over the river, and be 
banished from the fort as a drone, until he shall 
mend his ways or starve.” This speech caused 
at first a great clamor and outcry. Every one, 


JOHN SMITH. 


165 


however, knew that Smith would do as he 
threatened, and no man was bold enough open¬ 
ly to disobey him. Most of them now set dili¬ 
gently to work to help themselves. Some few’, 
still anxious to do nothing, and hearing that 
those who had been billeted among the Indians 
had been kindly treated, stole away from James- 
tow r n to make their homes with the savages. 
But the Indians were so friendly to Smith, that 
they at once caught them and brought them 
back, where the poor wretches were properly 
punished for playing runaways. 

You will remember that Sicklemore had been 
sent off to look for silk grass, and to find some 
one of Sir Walter Raleigh’s lost colony. He 
now returned unsuccessful. As the council in 
England, however, were particularly anxious 
about this lost colony, Smith again sent two of 
his men (Nathaniel Powel and Anas Todkill) to 
inquire about them of the Mangoags, a tribe of 
Indians dwelling upon some of the upper branches 
of the Roanoake River in Carolina. Furnished 
with suitable guides, they departed, but ere long 
came back to Jamestown equally unsuccessful. 

The treacherous Germans beginning again to 
make trouble, Smith sent one of the colonists (a 
Swiss named Volday) to try to persuade them to 


166 


JOHN SMITH. 


come home. But this fellow, while pretending 
to hate the villany of these deserters, was in 
fact as great a traitor as any one of them. He 
had scarcely reached them when he began to 
conspire with them to destroy the colony. Know¬ 
ing the distress at Jamestown ; that the colonists 
were mostly wandering about in search of food, 
and the fort consequently but slightly guarded, 
he went to Powhatan and offered, if he would 
lend him forces, not only to burn the town 
and seize the hark, but to make most of the 
colonists his slaves. This plot was made known 
to certain discontented fellows at the fort, in the 
hope of receiving their aid; but two of them 
were so smitten with horror at the thought of it, 
that they instantly revealed it to Smith. Such 
was the rage and indignation now towards these 
conspirators, that several volunteered to go to 
Werowocomoco immediately and kill them in 
the very presence of the king. Two of them 
(Mr. Wiffin and Jeffery Abbot) were at length 
despatched expressly for the purpose. But the 
Germans, upon their arrival, deceived Abbot with 
a fair story, and Wiffin was not willing to at¬ 
tempt the business alone; so the villains escaped. 
Powhatan acted very properly in this matter. 
As soon as he heard of the business upon which 


JOHN SMITH. 


167 


Wiffin and Abbot had come, he sent word to 
Smith that he would neither protect the Ger¬ 
mans, nor prevent his men from executing his 
design upon them, for he would entertain no 
man who was his enemy. One of these Germans 
afterwards returned to Jamestown on a promise 
of pardon. The others who remained at Wero- 
wocomoco could make no farther mischief, so far 
as Smith was concerned, for he was rever¬ 
enced by Powhatan and the surrounding tribes 
to such an extent, that they instantly informed 
him of any intended plot. 

Heavier troubles, however, were soon to fall 
upon Smith, and all the colony. Captain Samuel 
Argali now arrived from England, with the pur¬ 
pose of trading with the colony and fishing for stur¬ 
geon. His ship was well laden with wine and pro¬ 
visions. “ This was a prohibited trade, but Argali 
being a kinsman to Sir Thomas Smith, the trea¬ 
surer, it was overlooked. The necessities of the 
colony obliged them to take his provisions, by 
which his voyage was lost; but they revictual¬ 
led him when their next supply arrived, and 
sent him to England with a full account of the 
state of their affairs. By this ship they received 
letters, which taxed the president for his hard 
usage of the natives, and for not returning the 


168 


JOHN SMITH. 


ships freighted. And now also they first had an 
account of the alterations in England, and of the 
great preparations and large supply to be sent 
by the Lord Delaware, appointed Captain Gen¬ 
eral and Governor in chief of Virginia.”* 


* Stith’s Virginia, page 100. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


New charter granted by the king to the Virginia 
Company—Smith is deposed , and Lord Dela¬ 
ware made governor of Virginia—Seven ships 
arrive at Jamestown—Confusion in the colony 
—Courage and services of Smith—Friendship 
of the Indians toward him—Is seriously in¬ 
jured by an accident—Conspiracy to murder 
him—Friendship of his old soldiers—Returns 
to England—State of the colony at his depar¬ 
ture—His loss is felt severely in the colony . 

It seems strange that after all the struggles 
of Smith, the council in England should have 
been dissatisfied with him. Their conduct, how¬ 
ever, is explained when you remember that they 
were continually looking for returns of gold and 
silver from Virginia, and were continually dis¬ 
appointed. Newport’s last arrival from the colo¬ 
ny had disappointed them more than ever; 
Smith’s letter had provoked them, and Newport, 
acting a miserable part, had wilfully misrepre¬ 
sented the condition of the colony. He seems 
15 


170 


JOHN SMITH. 


to have been a weak but ambitious man, willing 
to elevate himself in any way, however mean. 
The council, therefore, asked the king for a new 
charter for the colony, which was readily grant¬ 
ed. This charter is dated the 23d of May, 1609. 
By it, Lord Delaware w T as made Captain General 
of Virginia; Sir Thomas Gates his Lieutenant 
General; Sir George Somers, Admiral; Captain 
Newport, Vice Admiral; Sir Thomas Dale, 
High Marshal, and Sir Ferdinando Wainman, 
General of the Horse. The powers of the old 
President and Council in Virginia were set aside, 
and the colonists were commanded at once to 
render obedience to these new officers. 

The council at once commenced making pre¬ 
parations for an enterprise toward the new world, 
and in a little time Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George 
Somers, and Captain Newport, were ready with 
nine ships and five hundred people. It was 
agreed in the council that whichever of these 
three officers should reach Virginia first, he was 
to govern the colony, until the arrival of Lord 
Delaware. Jealous of the possible authority of 
each other, to settle this matter, they agreed to 
embark in the same ship. On the last of May, 
the whole fleet sailed from England. On the 
25ih of July they were visited by a hurricane, 


JOHN SMITH. 


171 


which separated the ship, bearing the officers 
from the fleet, and drove her almost a wreck 
among the Bermuda Islands. Unfortunately, 
there were on board this vessel, besides one hun¬ 
dred and fifty of the emigrants, “ all the bills of 
lading, all the instructions and directions, and 
the best part of their provisions.” Another 
smaller ship was wrecked in the same tempest, 
while the other seven, riding out the storm, ar¬ 
rived safely at Jamestown. 

The guard on duty at the block house, mark¬ 
ing their approach, gave notice, and immediately 
the whole colony was under arms. Smith, sup¬ 
posing that it was a fleet of Spaniards coming 
to invade them, called the men to their duty, and 
the Indians, in their love for him, volunteered to 
assist in fighting the expected battle. Their 
fears, however, were soon over, when they dis¬ 
covered that the fleet was manned by their coun¬ 
trymen. 

A battle with Spaniards, however, was pre¬ 
ferable to what soon occurred. In the ships 
that arrived were three worthless men, well 
known in the colony. These were Ratcliffe, 
Archer, and Martin. Hating Smith as they did, 
they had busied themselves during the whole 
voyage, in telling falsehoods, and endeavoring 


172 


JOHN SMITH 


to make enemies for him. They had, in a good 
degree, succeeded: and now the new comers 
were scarcely ashore, before their temper and 
bearing toward him began to be seen. No new 
commission had as yet arrived to set aside his 
authority, yet they refused to obey him, and pre¬ 
tended first to set up one governor and then an¬ 
other, until the whole colony was one scene of 
confusion. The old settlers, who knew their 
captain’s worth, stood by him firmly, but he, 
disgusted with the madness of these new comers, 
allowed them for a time to have their own way 
and do as they pleased. 

The German too, who had returned under 
promise of pardon, proved traitor again. Seeing 
the distraction of the colony, and hearing the 
loud talk of the new adventurers, he again went 
over to Powhatan, promising to do “ wonders for 
him upon the arrival of Lord Delaware.” The 
Germans still at Werowocomoco joined the fel¬ 
low in his promises, but Powhatan understood 
too well the value of such friends. Knowing 
that treason is base, and that the men who would 
betray Smith, might one day be as ready to be¬ 
tray him, he ordered his men to seize them and 
beat out their brains. Void ay was the only 
traitor of the old gang left, and that you may 


JOHN SMITH. 


173 


see the full reward of iniquity, I may as well tell 
you at once, that he managed to escape to Eng¬ 
land before this, made great promises of what 
he would do for the council, and was sent back 
with Lord Delaware to carry out his fine pur¬ 
poses. In a little time he was found to be a 
mere impostor, and died in misery and disgrace. 

Wearied and disgusted with the confusion at 
Jamestown, Smith began now to think of return¬ 
ing to England. But the madness of the new 
comers had reached such a pitch, that the sober 
men among them saw that their only safety 
w T as to be found in securing his protection. They 
therefore went to him, begging that he would 
remember that no new governor had arrived, that 
his commission had not yet expired, and entreat¬ 
ing him to abandon the thought of leaving them, 
and to restore order in the colony. Ever rea¬ 
dy to sacrifice his own feelings for the pub¬ 
lic good, Smith consented to remain, and set 
himself courageously to the task of reforming 
abuses, even at the point of his life. He seized 
Ratcliffe, Archer, and other leaders of the riot, 
and cast them into prison, until a leisure time 
should come for their fair trial. Thoroughly to 
break up the plots of the conspirators, he thought 
it best to divide them. Martin was sent with 
15* 


174 


JOHN SMITH. 


one hundred and twenty men to make a set¬ 
tlement at Nansamond, while Mr. West was 
despatched with the same number to make a 
settlement at the falls. Each was supplied with 
a good stock of provisions. Before Martin left. 
Smith, by one act, gained still greater popularity. 
He offered to resign in his favor, and allow him 
to act as governor. But Martin, though a weak 
man, knew he was not fit for the place, and de¬ 
clined it—preferring to take his men to Nansa¬ 
mond. 

His settlement at Nansamond, however, proved 
a perfect failure. The Indians were very kind, 
but such was “ his jealousy of them, that he sur¬ 
prised the poor naked king, and his monuments 
and his houses, with the island wherein he lived, 
and there fortified himself.” This outraged the 
savages. Gathering in numbers, they attacked 
him, killed several of his men, released theii 
king, and carried off a thousand bushels of corn. 
He was so frightened that he made but little 
effort to oppose them ; but sent off to James¬ 
town for thirty soldiers. These were immedi¬ 
ately sent, but seeing Martin’s cowardice, came 
back, refusing to serve under such a leader. He 
soon followed them, leaving his poor company 
to shift for themselves. 


JOHN SMITH. 


175 


West was equally imprudent at the falls, and 
his settlement did not fare much better. It was 
made upon a point of land w hich was frequently 
inundated by the river. Smith, feeling much 
anxiety about this settlement, had taken a leisure 
moment to visit it. On his w ay he met Mr. West 
returning to Jamestown to seek his advice. 
Learning the state of things, he at once pur¬ 
chased of Powhatan the place on the river 
called by his name, and went up to remove the 
settlement there. The men at the falls proving 
insolent and resisting his authority, he (with the 
five men w T ho were with him) seized some of the 
ringleaders and cast them into prison. But the 
riot only increased—their numbers proved too 
strong for him, and he was glad to escape in a 
boat with his life. The Indians now came to 
him complaining that these men at the falls 
“ w r ere w T orse than the Monacans themselves”— 
that they stole their corn, robbed their gardens, 
beat them, and put them in prison ; but that 
they w T ould endure these things no longer. They 
had borne with them “ out of love for him, but 
hereafter they desired pardon if they defended 
themselves.” As he himself bad been injured 
by these men, they offered at once to fight for 
him if he w r ould lead them on. After spending 


176 


JOHN SMITH. 


nine days in the neighborhood, hoping in vain 
that these rioters would come to their senses, he 
started for Jamestown. His barge had moved 
off only about half a league, when she grounded. 
This was a fortunate circumstance for the men 
at the falls, for Smith had scarcely left them, 
when twelve Indians, finding some of them strag¬ 
gling in the woods, murdered them, and then 
violently assaulted the settlement. The fright¬ 
ened men (too cowardly to protect themselves) 
now sent for Smith, offering to do as he desired 
if he would come back. He immediately return¬ 
ed, and after punishing six or seven as examples 
to their companions, removed them all to Pow¬ 
hatan. There was no reason in their not going 
there before. Here they had dry houses and 
lodgings, near two hundred acres of land cleared 
and ready for planting, besides a fort which had 
formerly been erected by the savages. The 
place, too, was strong by nature, having been 
once selected as his home by the skilful eye of 
Powhatan, and now they were so much pleased 
with it, that they gave it the name of Nonesuch 
Yet, before Smith had fairly settled them. 
West, who was dissatisfied with this movement, 
began to make discord among them, and some 
of them were soon again discontented. They be- 


JOHN SMITH. 


177 


gan to complain, and as Smith had no disposition 
to quarrel with West, and no means of stopping 
their insolence, he at once started for Jamestown, 
leaving them to do as they pleased. In a little 
time, under the persuasions of West, they de¬ 
serted this place with all its advantages and went 
back to the falls. 

Passing down the river, Smith met with a very 
serious accident. Being asleep in the boat, a 
bag of powder exploded near him, tearing his 
flesh and burning him dreadfully. To quench 
the fire (his clothes were all in a blaze) he leap¬ 
ed into the water, and with great difficulty was 
rescued by his men from drowning. In “ this 
piteous state” he arrived at Jamestown. Ratcliffe 
and Archer with the other prisoners were soon 
now T to be brought to trial. Dreading the result, 
(for they knew their guilt,) they basely conspired 
to take advantage of his condition, and murder 
him in his bed. But the wretch who was en¬ 
gaged to despatch him, was not equal to this 
deed of cruelty. His heart failed him, even with 
the pistol in his hand. Disappointed in this, 
these villains then endeavored to usurp the go¬ 
vernment, thereby to’ escape their punishment. 
The old soldiers of the captain were now enrag¬ 
ed almost to desperation. Flocking around him, 


178 


JOHN SMITH. 


they declared that if he would only say the word, 
they would fetch him the heads of the boldest 
villains thus trying to injure him. But he, de¬ 
sirous of having no farther disturbance in the 
colony, persuaded them to be quiet. Suffering 
from his wounds, and sick at heart, he resolv¬ 
ed to return to England. His old friends 
crowded around him, entreating him to stay, even 
with tears in their eyes; but he could not be 
persuaded. He fancied that he should never re¬ 
cover except in England, and he mourned “ to 
see his authority suppressed, he knew not why ; 
himself and his soldiers to be rewarded for their 
past labors and dangers, he knew not how; and 
a new commission granted to, he knew not 
whom.” Moreover, he thought himself useless 
in his present condition, and this was reason 
enough with him for his departure. It was ear¬ 
ly in the autumn of 1609, that he was carried 
aboard ship, and departed from Virginia never 
again to see it. 

In spite of all difficulties, the colony was in a 
tolerably prosperous condition. He left behind 
him near five hundred colonists, one hundred of 
whom were well trained soldiers of his own, 
three ships, seven boats, twenty-four pieces of 
ordnance, three hundred muskets, with other 


JOHN SMITH. 


179 


arms and ammunition for the men, nets for fish¬ 
ing, tools for working, a good supply of clothing, 
large stores of provisions, and an abundant stock 
of domestic animals. 

It may serve to shew the littleness of some 
enemies left behind, when we are told that, “ at 
one time the ships were delayed from sailing 
for three weeks, that complaints might be looked 
up against him and sent to England j” and the 
real excellence of his character is well seen, 
when it is known how, in less than six months 
after his departure, friends and enemies sighed 
for his presence in Virginia. When the famine, 
known as “ the starving time,” swept over the 
colony, and after eating roots, the skins of their 
horses, and at last the dead bodies of their com¬ 
panions, the five hundred left by the captain was 
reduced to the little band of sixty, men, women, 
and children; at that time they knew how to 
value him. It was then that they sighed for 
their old leader and fellow-sufferer in every diffi¬ 
culty, Captain Smith. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Smith s first voyage to New England in 1614— 
Treachery of Captain Hunt—Smith makes a 
map of the coast , and upon his return presents 
it to Prince Charles—Sails a second time for 
New England—Is taken by French pirates 
and carried a prisoner to Rochelle—Makes his 
escape during a storm—At length arrives in 
his own country—Publishes his description of 
New England—Goes through the western part 
of England distributing copies of his book — 
Circumstances which brought the Princess 
Pocahontas to England in 1616 —She meets 
with Smith—Touching interview—Embassy of 
Vttamatomakkin—Pocahontas dies in Eng¬ 
land, leaving an infant son—News of Ope- 
chancanough's massacre at Jamestown in 1622 
—Smith proposes to revenge the death of his 
countrymen—In 1623, appears before King 
James's commission for reforming abuses in 
Virginia—In 1631, dies at London , in the 
fifty-second year of his age. 

Five years now pass away before we hear 
again of Captain Smith and of course I can tell 


JOHN SMITH. 


181 


you nothing of his employments during that time. 
At length, in the year 1614, we find him busy 
in London, making arrangements with some 
merchants there for an expedition to New Eng¬ 
land. Attempts had before this been made to 
plant colonies in that region, but they had failed, 
and greatly discouraged the people of England; 
but Smith’s energy now roused these merchants 
to a new adventure. Two ships were made 
ready, and to save the expenses of the voyage, • 
he was to employ himself and crew in searching 
for mines and capturing whales. If he failed 
in these two purposes, he was to bring home a 
cargo of such fish and furs as he could procure. 

In the month of March the ships departed— 
one commanded by Smith, the other by Captain 
Thomas Hunt. They arrived, on the last day of 
April, at the Island of Monahigon, off the coast 
of Maine. Here, after building seven boats, 
some went inland to look for the mines, while 
others set to work to capture the whales. They 
were busy in these efforts without success for two 
months,when Smith, thinking it was idle to waste 
any farther time, set them to taking and curing 
cod fish, of which there was an abundance on the 
coast. While they were thus employed, taking 
with him eight men in a small boat, he ranged 


182 


JOHN SMITH. 


the coast from Penobscot to Cape Cod, gathering 
furs from the Indians. During this time, as usual, 
he observed everything closely, gave names to 
many of the places that he passed, and made a 
map of the whole coast. The month of August 
having now arrived, and his ship being laden, 
he sailed for England, leaving Hunt behind him, 
(whose ship was not yet laden,) with directions 
to complete his cargo of fish as rapidly as he 
could, and sail for Spain, where he would find a 
good market. 

This Hunt proved to be an unprincipled man. 
Smith had scarcely left, when he managed to 
get twenty-four Indians on board his ship, 
seized them, and sailing directly to Malaga 
in Spain, sold them as slaves. It is said 
that this act of wickedness was prompted by 
the desire to make the savages on the coast, 
enemies to his countrymen; hoping thereby to 
prevent the planting of a colony, that his own 
private gains might be the greater. Be this as 
it may, certain it is that he succeeded in making 
them enemies; for long after this, the whites 
were made to suffer for his iniquity. 

Upon his return to England, Smith put in at 
the port of Plymouth. Here he commenced 
telling of his adventures, and meeting with Sir 


JOHN SMITH. 


183 


Ferdinando Gorges, was at once introduced by 
him to the Plymouth Company of Adventurers. 
This was the company making efforts (as you 
will remember) to settle New England or North 
Virginia, as it was then called, and they imme¬ 
diately engaged his services. Passing over to 
London now, he found the London Company 
(which he had formerly served) anxious to em¬ 
ploy him, but could not meet their wishes, ow¬ 
ing to his engagement at Plymouth. Their 
wish, however, serves to shew how much the 
man was valued, after all the complaints and 
murmurs that had been made against him. 

While in London, he presented to Prince 
Charles (afterwards King Charles the First) his 
map of the new region—with a request (as some 
say) that he would give a name to the country 
—and the king called it New England. Others 
assert that Smith gave it this name himself. It is 
certain, however, that the prince altered various 
names upon the map. Cape Tragabigzanda (call¬ 
ed by Smith after his Turkish mistress) was chang¬ 
ed to Cape Ann, and the islands near the cape, 
which Smith called the“ Turks’ Heads,” in honor 
of his victory over the three Turks, los4 also 
their name. Cape Cod was called by the prince 
Cape James* in honor of his father, though we 


184 


JOHN SMITH. 


still retain the first name—and thus the cod-fish 
on -the coast have succeeded better than a prince 
in giving a name to that point. What are now 
known, too, as the Isles of Shoals, were upon 
Smith’s map marked as “ Smith’s Isles.” I do not 
know, however, that we are indebted to the 
prince for this last change. 

It was in the month, of January, 1615, when 
Smith left London to keep his engagement with 
the Plymouth Company. They had promised 
to provide him with four ships for an adventure; 
but upon his arrival, he was greatly disappointed 
to find they were not ready. The truth is, the 
company was again discouraged. In June (it 
seems) a ship had sailed for New England, and 
owing to the wickedness of Hunt, had met with 
a very unkind reception upon the coast, from 
the savages. She had now returned, and the 
crew of course had sad stories to tell of their 
trials. Smith was determined that his enter¬ 
prise should not fail. By the help of Sir Fer- 
dinando Gorges and other friends, after an en¬ 
ergetic and untiring struggle, he managed to 
have two ships equipped and ready for his 
voyage. The one (of one hundred tons) was to 
be commanded by himself: the other (of fifty 
tons) was to be commanded by Captain Thomas 


JOHN SMITH. 


185 


Dermer. Sixteen emigrants were to embark for 
the purpose of making a permanent settlement. 

In the month of March they set sail. The 
ships kept together for about one hundred and 
twenty leagues, when a storm separated them. 
Dermer pursued his voyage, but Smith, after 
losing both his masts, was forced to put back 
under a jury-mast to Plymouth. He was de¬ 
tained some little time in making new arrange¬ 
ments. Having at length put his stores on board 
a small bark of sixty tons, manned by thirty men, 
he again set sail. 

His voyage now was only a voyage of mis¬ 
fortunes. In a little time he fell in with an 
English pirate. His frightened crew begged 
that he would surrender; but this he refused to 
do, though he carried but four guns, and the 
pirate thirty-six. There was no fight, however, 
for upon hailing her, Smith found that the cap¬ 
tain and some of the crew were his old friends 
and comrades; that they had run away with the 
ship from Tunis, and were now in great want of 
provisions. In their distress they begged to put 
themselves under his command, but this Smith 
refused, and kept on his voyage. Ere long, he 
came in sight of two French pirates. His cow¬ 
ardly crew again begged that he would at once 
16 * 


186 


JOHN SMITH. 


surrender. Smith was now angry. He threat¬ 
ened to blow up the ship sooner than do this. 
The pirates chased him, but keeping up a "brisk 
running fight, he made his escape. Soon after 
he met four French men-of-war, that were out 
upon a cruise, having orders from the French 
king to seize any pirates they might find. Smith 
went aboard one of the ships and shewed his 
commission, to prove that he was no pirate. But 
the French commander was unwilling to believe 
him. The truth was, that the French had set¬ 
tlements in North America, and were jealous of 
all efforts of the English toward the same pur¬ 
pose. Smith’s ship w T as therefore plundered, 
manned with Frenchmen, and his crew taken 
aboard the French ships. Strangely enough, 
however, in a little time they delivered his vessel 
to him, and he prepared to continue his voyage 
for New England, amid the loud murmurs of his 
men, who now begged that they might return to 
Plymouth. The poor cowards had been so often 
frightened, that they were unwilling to be longer 
at sea. Smith refused to hearken to their com¬ 
plaints, yet they managed to carry out their wish. 
I will tell you how it was brought about. 

The admiral of the French fleet pretended 
(before the ships parted) that he was desirous of 


JOHN SMITH. 


1S7 


seeing Smith, and sent for him to come on board 
his ship. The captain accepted the invitation 
and went. Whether Smith’s own crew had 
engaged the admiral in a stratagem, or whether 
it was a natural accident, it so happened that 
while he was aboard, a strange sail was seen 
and the admiral gave chase. Thus Smith was 
separated from his men: the next night, they 
turned the ship’s head homeward, and after some 
difficulty reached Plymouth. Some have said 
that these Frenchmen, knowing the character of 
Smith, and that he was the very life and soul 
of the English colonies in the new world, were 
especially jealous of him, and therefore thus 
kidnapped him. 

The admiral’s ship (separated from the rest) 
kept on her way, and Smith found that he was 
in the midst of a lawless set of fellows. The 
Frenchmen now pretended to keep him as a 
prisoner, declaring that he was the man who 
had broken up the French settlements at Port 
Royal the year before, (which thing in fact had 
een done by Captain Argali.) The ship had 
a prosperous cruise, so far as plunder was con¬ 
cerned. Sometimes she would meet and plunder 
English ships, upon which occasions Smith was 
always kept below; but when the ships of other 


188 


JOHN SMITH. 


nations were encountered, he was always made 
to do his part of the fighting. At length, the 
cruise being over, she sailed for the port of 
Rochelle. The Frenchmen seem to have been 
conscious that they were guilty men for thus 
treating him, for before reaching port they pro¬ 
mised to repay him for all his sufferings and 
losses, by giving him his part of the plunder. 
Having arrived in port, however, they broke 
their promise and kept him as a prisoner in the 
ship in the harbor. Here they tried to force from 
him a written discharge of all demands against 
them. This he refused to give, and a kind Pro¬ 
vidence soon released him from his captivity. 
A sudden storm arose, and drove the crew of the 
ship below. Smith waited until night came on, 
and then taking the boat, with a half pike which 
served as an oar, pushed off for the shore. The 
current being strong, his little boat drifted to sea, 
and for twelve hours he was tossed about upon 
the ocean, expecting every moment to perish. 
Fortunately,the turn of the tide” at length 
threw him upon a low marshy island, where he 
was found in the morning by some fowlers, al¬ 
most dead from cold and hunger. He agreed 
to give them his boat if they would take him to 
Rochelle. Upon his arrival there he learned 


JOHN SMITH. 


1S9 


that the effects of the storm had been tremen¬ 
dous. The ship in which he had been confined, 
with one of her prizes, had been w T recked upon 
the shore, and the captain with half the crew 
had perished. 

He now made complaint to the judge of the 
admiralty of the cruel treatment he had received, 
and brought forward many of the sailors to prove 
the truth of his statements. It seems he found 
no remedy; but the judge, having some idea of 
justice, gave him a certificate, stating that he 
believed his story to be true. In his misfortune, 
he met with many friends at Rochelle, and after¬ 
wards at Bourdeaux, upon presenting the letter 
of the judge to the English ambassador, found 
many more. After some hardships, he once 
more returned to England. 

It seems he had not been idle while he was 
a captive on board the French ship. During 
this time he had written an account of his two 
last voyages, with descriptions of the country of 
New England, “ with its many advantages, and 
the proper methods of rendering it a valuable 
acquisition to the English dominions.” Return¬ 
ing home, he published this, together with his 
map of New England, and in his ardent de¬ 
sire to rouse the energies of his countrymen to- 


190 


JOHN SMITH. 


wards colonizing that country, wandered over 
all the western parts of England, giving away 
copies of his book. In this way (it is said) he 
distributed seven thousand copies. He found the 
people greatly discouraged by the different fail¬ 
ures that had occurred already, though some of 
them “ made many fair promises” about a new 
effort. The Plymouth Company, as some reward 
for his services, now honored him with the title 
of Admiral of New England. 

In the spring of the next year, (1616,) to his 
great surprise and joy, he met with his former 
friend, the princess Pocahontas. As everything 
connected with this noble-hearted woman has 
an interest for my countrymen, I must tell you 
the circumstances which brought about the 
meeting. 

After Smith left Virginia, the friendship of 
Pocahontas for the whites still continued. It 
was not so with her father Powhatan. From 
time to time, he was busy in stratagems against 
them. In 1610, the friendship and animosity of 
both parties were well proved, when Powhatan 
cut off Ratcliffe and a party of thirty men, while 
Pocahontas managed to save a boy named Henry 
Spilman. From some cause or other, (possibly 
the cruelty of Powhatan towards the whites,) 


JOHN SMITH. 


191 


Pocahontas at length left her father’s house, and 
made her home among the Potomacs. In one 
of his trading voyages in 1612, Captain Argali 
learned from the chief of the Potomacs that 
she was there, and determined to make her a 
prisoner. He thought that if he could get pos¬ 
session of the daughter, Powhatan, in his love 
for her and his desire to release her, would make 
peace on any terms. Accordingly he bribed the 
old chief (Japazaws) with the promise of a cop¬ 
per kettle, to aid him in carrying out his plan. 

The design was to get the princess on board 
Argali’s ship, and a curious stratagem was re¬ 
sorted to. Old Japazaws and his wife made a 
visit to Pocahontas, and the wife (as she had 
been instructed to do) expressed a great desire 
to visit “ the Englishman’s ship.” The chief re¬ 
fused to allow her to go, and threatened to beat 
her for having such a wish. She (still act¬ 
ing her part) began to weep and howl, and then 
the old hypocrite Japazaws, pretending to re¬ 
lent, consented that she might go if Pocahontas 
would accompany her. The amiable princess 
at once assented, and they went on board. 
The captain received them very kindly, and en¬ 
tertained them in the cabin, where the old chief 
kept from time to time, treading on his toe to 


192 


JOHN SMITH. 


remind h;rn that he had done his part. After 
this Pocahontas “ was decoyed into the gun 
room” for a time, that japazaws might receive 
his reward without her knowing anything of his 
treachery. The kettle and many toys being 
given to him and his wife, Pocahontas at length 
was called by the captain, and told she was 
a prisoner—that she should not be harmed in 
any way, but was to be the means of peace be¬ 
tween her father and the English. The princess 
was greatly overcome, and wept bitterly, while 
the old hypocrites Japazaws and his wife set up 
a most hideous howling. She was at length 
pacified and consented to go to Jamestown, 
(where it seems she had not been since Smith 
left the country,) and the old chief and his wife 
were sent ashore, greatly pleased, yet bitterly 
wailing. 

Upon the arrival of the ship at Jamestown, a 
message was immediately sent to Powhatan, 
telling him of the captivity of his daughter, and 
offering to deliver her up to him if he would sur¬ 
render all the prisoners whom he had taken, and 
all the guns and tools of the English that he had 
stolen. The news made the old man very sad, 
for he loved his daughter, and he liked the guns. 
He seems not to have known what to do, and 


JOHN SMITH. 


193 


consequently, for three months, returned no an¬ 
swer. At the end of this time, he sent back 
seven English prisoners, each bringing a worn 
out musket, with a message that “ when they 
should deliver his daughter, he would make full 
satisfaction for all injuries, give them four hun¬ 
dred bushels of corn, and be their friend for ever.” 
The English answered “that his daughter should 
be well used; but as they could not believe that 
the rest of their arms were either lost or stolen 
from him, they w^ould keep her till he had sent 
them all back.” This vexed him so much that 
for a long time they heard no more from him. 
At length Sir Thomas Dale, taking with him 
Pocahontas, and one hundred and fifty men, 
sailed up the river in one of the ships to Wero- 
wocomoco. Upon his arrival, Powhatan w-ould 
not see him. Dale spoke, however, to some of 
his men, telling them that he had come for the 
purpose of delivering yp the king’s daughter if 
he would surrender the men and arms belonging 
to the colony. The savages received this only 
with threats, telling him if he and his men came 
to fight they were welcome. Then, with cool 
impudence, they advised him to be off if he valued 
the lives of his men, otherwise they would all 
meet with the fate of Ratcliffe’s party. This 
17 


194 


JOHN SMITH. 


was more than could well be borne. The whites 
at once commenced burning their houses, and 
destroying everything they could find, until at 
length, after an idle resistance, the savages seem¬ 
ed disposed to come to terms. They said that 
their prisoners had run away, fearing that they 
would be hanged, but that some of Powhatan’s 
men had gone to bring them back. This was 
only a stratagem to gain time, which Dale very 
well understood, and therefore told them that 
he would remain quiet until the next day at 
noon, when, if they were not ready to meet his 
demands, and were willing to fight, they might 
know when to begin by the sound of his drums 
and trumpets. In other words, a truce was 
agreed upon until noon of the next day. In the 
mean time two brothers of Pocahontas came on 
board the ship to see her, and were greatly pleas¬ 
ed to find her (contrary to their expectations) 
well and happy. They now promised to use 
their efforts to persuade their father to ransom 
her, and to be for ever friends to the English. 
At the same time, Mr. John Rolfe and Mr. Sparks 
had been sent ashore to Powhatan, to inform 
him (if he could be found) of the business upon 
which they had come. But the old chief would 
not admit them to his presence. They could only 


JOHN SMITH. 


195 


speak with Opechancanough, (his brother,) who 
promised to do his utmost with Powhatan, “ to 
incline him to peace and friendship with the 
colony.” The truce ended, and nothing was 
done; yet the whites were disposed to do nothing 
more at present, (owing, perhaps, to the fair 
promises of the kinsmen of Powhatan.) Another 
reason prompting them to waste no more time 
in the matter w r as, the desire to oe at home to 
plant their lands; so the whole party returned 
to Jamestown. 

In a little time, Powhatan became a warm 
friend to the whites, but it was hardly owing to 
the efforts of Opechancanough or his sons. It 
seems that Mr. Rolfe had formed an attachment 
for Pocahontas, while she had returned his love 
as w T armly, and had spoken to one of her b#others 
of her feelings. When Powhatan heard of this 
he was greatly pleased, and instantly consented 
to their marriage. Within ten days he sent his 
brother Opachisco and two of his sons to attend 
the wedding, acting as his deputies in all that 
might be necessary. The parties were duly 
married in April, 1613, and ever after this, there 
was a strong and lasting friendship between 
Powhatan and the colony. 

It was in the spring of 1616, that she arrived 


196 


JOHN SMITH. 


in England with her husband. She was then 
about twenty-two years of age, and is said to 
have been “ very graceful, and her manners gen¬ 
tle and pleasing.” Living at Jamestown, she 
had learned to speak the English language, and 
embracing the Christian religion, had been bap¬ 
tized by the name of Rebecca.* She had heard 
in some way that her old friend Captain Smith 
was dead, and did not learn that he was living 
until she arrived in England. 

As soon as Smith heard of her arrival, he sent 
a letter to the queen, setting forth the character 
of Pocahontas, and her great kindness to himself 
and the colony in Virginia. This was done in 
gratitude by the captain, but it was well nigh 
useless, for her fame had reached England long 
before this. She was introduced to the queen 
by the Lady Delaware, and received with great 
courtesy and kindness by all the royal family. 
In a little time Smith came to see her, and the 

* The author was ignorant of the real name of Pocahontas, 
until he accidentally discovered in Stith's Virginia the follow- 
ing: “ Her real name, it seems, was originally Matoax, which 
the Indians carefully concealed from the English, and chang¬ 
ed it to Pocahontas, out of a superstitious fear, lest they, by 
the knowledge of her true name, should be enabled to do hei 
some hurt. She was the first Christian Indian in ♦hese parts 
and perhaps the sincerest and most worthy that has eve* 
been since.”—Stith’s Virginia, page 136. 


JOHN SMITH. 


197 


interview between them was very touching At 
the first sight of him, after a modest salutation, 
she turned away, hid her face, and for two hours 
did not utter a word. After this she spoke to 
him, and called him father, and because Smith 
did not at once salute her as his child, she hid 
her face again and wept bitterly. She did not 
remember that she was the daughter of a king, 
and now in a land where kings were honored, 
and that Smith, perhaps, felt some delicacy for 
that reason in calling her his child. When re¬ 
minded of this, (it is said,) “ she despised such 
affectation.” She declared that she loved him 
as a father, that she had treated him as a father 
in her own country, and would be his child for 
ever. Then looking upon him again, she cried, 
“ They did tell us always you were dead, and I 
knew no other till I came to Plymouth: yet 
Powhatan did command Uttamatomakkin to seek 
you and know the truth.” 

This savage (one of the trusty friends of Pow¬ 
hatan) had been sent out by the chief for three 
purposes—he was to learn if Smith was alive, 
and if alive to see him—to see the Englishman’s 
God, and their king and queen—and to count the 
people of England. Upon meeting Smith, he 
desired, in his ignorance, to see his God. Then 
17* 


198 


JOHN SMITH. 


he asked to see the king and queen. It seems 
he had seen the king, and Smith told him so, 
promising that in due time he would shew him 
the queen. The poor savage could hardly be 
persuaded that he had seen the king, because 
the person whom they called king had given 
him nothing. Turning to Smith, he said, “ You 
gave Powhatan a white dog, but your king has 
given me nothing, and I am better than your 
white dog.” As to numbering the people, he 
had managed that in a curious way. Upon his 
arrival at Plymouth, being unable to count the 
multitudes, he procured a long stick, and made 
a notch for every person that he met. It is said 
that upon his return home, when Powhatan ask¬ 
ed him how many people there were in England, 
his answer was, “ Count the stars in the sky, the 
leaves on the trees, and the sands upon the sea 
shore : for such is the number of the people in 
England.” 

It was the fate of the princess Pocahontas 
never to return to Virginia. In the early part 
of 1617, as she was preparing to embark with 
her husband, she was at Gravesend suddenly 
taken sick, and died leaving one son, her infant 
boy, Thomas Rolfe. Her character proved good 


JOHN SMITH. 


199 


to the last, for we are told that “ she died calm¬ 
ly like a Christian.”* 

We hear no more of Captain Smith now, un¬ 
til the year 1622, when news reached England 
of Opechancanoegh’s dreadful massacre of the 
colonists at Jamestown. The tidings were sad 
to all, but sadder to none than Smith. In his 
indignation at this savage butchery of his coun¬ 
trymen, he proposed at once to the company, that 
if they would give him one hundred soldiers and 
thirty sailors, with the necessary provisions and 
arms, he would go to Virginia, “ range the 
country, keep the natives in awe, and protect 
the planters.” The company was divided. Some 
were for hearkening to, others for opposing his 
project. At length, after consultation, they gave 
him this pitiful answer: “ that the charges would 
be too great ; that their stock was reduced; that 
the planters oupht to defend themselves; but 
that if he v go at his own expense, they 
would give him leave , provided he would give 
them one half of the pillage” He rejected their 
proposal with scorn. 

* Her son, Thomas Rolfe, after being for some time intrust- 
ed to his uncle in London, at length came to Virginia, and 
became somewhat distinguished. He married and left an only 
daughter, and now some of the most reputable families in Vir¬ 
ginia are her descendants, and, through her, the descendants 
ol Her grand-mother, the princess Pocahontas. 


200 


JOHN SMITH. 


The sad state of affairs in Virginia at length 
induced King James (in 1623) to issue a com¬ 
mission, appointing certain persons to examine 
into the causes of the difficulties, and report a 
plan for the better management of the colony. 
This commission, aware of the knowledge of 
Smith, was wise enough to send for him. He 
told them all that he knew of the colony, and 
gave them his advice as to the best way of 
proceeding to remedy matters, and make the 
colony happy and profitable. 

For some years now his life was more quiet. 
He busied himself from time to time in writing 
accounts of his travels, and struggling to call up 
in his countrymen a spirit for colonizing America. 
It was not his privilege, however, to see the 
country for which he had struggled, and where 
he had endured so many hardships, all that he 
desired. He only in a measure foresaw, what 
the American plantations might become under 
proper management. Could he now look upon 
this beautiful land of ours, and see what his little 
colony has grown to, how would he be startled 
to find the richest calculations of his bold spirit 
more than realized 1 

I have no more to say, except that this won¬ 
derful man died at London in the year 1631, in 


JOHN SMITH. 


201 


the fifty-second year of his age, and to add his 
own melancholy story after all his struggles. 
“ I have” (says he) “ spent five years and more 
than five hundred pounds in the service of Vir¬ 
ginia and New England, and in neither of them 
have I one foot of land, nor the very house I 
built, nor the ground I digged with my own 
hands ; but I see those countries shared before 
me, by those who know them only by my de¬ 
scriptions.” 


THE END. 


























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